Aseptic Vitality
by Unwritten.25
Summary: ABANDONED. SLASH. AU. On the run from the wizarding world, Remus and Harry end up in Forks, Washington. Just what happens when they meet the mysterious Cullen family? Twilight/HP crossover.
1. Prologue: Not Okay

**Summary: ** the run from the wizarding world, Remus and Harry end up in Forks, Washington. Just what happens when the meet the mysterious Cullen family?

**Pairings:** Edward/Harry, side Severus/Remus, mentions of Carlisle/Esme, Rosalie/Emmett, Jasper/Alice

**Disclaimer:** The Twilight series is not mine. Any lyrics/quotes are not mine. And Harry Potter is not mine.

**Warnings:** There is **SLASH** and **HET** in this story. There will be **violence**, **swearing**, pretty detailed mentions of **child abuse**, and **mature content** (because vampires have wandering hands). **Twilight** will probably be mangled to an extreme degree because it isn't my key series, and I don't know it as well as Harry Potter. There will be **no Isabella Swann** in this story (probably). She never moved to Forks. If anything of the above irks/disgusts you, then you're free to leave.

**Author's Note:** I'm sure the lot of you Twilight geeks (if you ever see this) will hate me dreadfully by the end of this. Oh well. I should warn you guys that I've only read the first book of Twilight so far, and I don't plan on reading any more. I don't really like the story – I just like the characters.

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Prologue: Not Okay**

I have always thought the actions of men the best interpreters of their thoughts. (John Locke)

Remember, people will judge you by your actions, not your intentions. You may have a heart of gold - but so does a hard-boiled egg. (Anon)

I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders. (Jewish Proverb)

A peacefulness follows any decision, even the wrong one. (Rita Mae Brown)

It's not hard to make decisions when you know what your values are. (Roy Disney)

Some persons are very decisive when it comes to avoiding decisions. (Brendan Francis)

The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn. (David Russell)

* * *

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
****July 10th, 1996**

Albus Dumbledore frowned as he watched his old student and ex-teacher pace in front of him looking equal parts enraged and frustrated.

"Harry is fine, Remus, I assure you," he told the werewolf, for the fourth time in the last hour. "We spoke to the Dursley's at the end of his fifth year – they aren't troubling him."

"Albus, they are hurting him!" Remus cried, whirling around to face the aged Headmaster. He'd told the man this before, but Albus never listened to anyone once he thought he was right. _'Well he's not, for once!'_ Remus thought spitefully. "I could smell the blood on him when he stayed at Grimmauld last summer! How else would he have been wounded, if his _family_ wasn't hurting him?!"

"I'm sure you were mistaken, Remus," Albus soothed the enraged werewolf. "I have not seen any sign of child abuse in Harry's behavior. He is a normal, happy, teenaged boy."

Remus barked a bitter laugh. "How can you _not_ see it, Albus?! He flinches from people when he thinks no ones looking, and he _never_ talks about his home life! Ronald Weasley told me that _those people_ had _bars_ on his window in second year!" With every remembered incident, Remus' inner werewolf was getting angrier and angrier.

"We _warned_ them, Remus," Albus said, not so patient anymore. "They are terrified of wizarding people – they will not harm Harry. He needs to stay the rest of the summer, and nothing you say will change my mind on the subject."

Remus growled. "I'm going to see him." It wasn't a request.

Albus looked into the fierce golden eyes and decided that letting Remus see Harry was well would be the best way to stop the protests. He inclined his head. "Very well. Tomorrow you may go and see him. I will send him a letter."

Remus nodded, even though inwardly he had no intention of going to see Harry tomorrow. If the Dursleys _were_ hurting Harry, they would stop as soon as they realized that a wizard would be visiting their home. He would go tonight, so he could get a true view on things. If everything was fine _without_ Dumbledore warning them ahead of time, then Remus would allow Harry to stay with his relatives. Otherwise . . . Moony growled in the back of Remus' head. If those people had hurt his cub, even Merlin wouldn't be able to save them.

* * *

**Privet Drive, Surrey  
****July 11th, 1997: 1:35 AM**

Remus had never had to use as much of his Marauder skills as he did the night he went to save Harry. This, of course, was due to the Order member currently guarding Harry's house: Severus Snape. Severus, of course, hated the job, but he had little else to do since Voldemort had not called on him for some time.

Remus had the superior edge in the fact that he could sense and smell Severus yards before he saw him, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be cautious. He'd learned the hard way that Severus Snape was never to be underestimated – that man always had something up his sleeve.

Thankfully, he managed to make it up to the door without rousing the other man's suspicions, and hurriedly swept inside. Apparently, the Dursley's were secure enough not to lock their door – stupidity at it's greatest, in Remus' opinion. No matter where you were, you were never safe enough to leave your door open to anyone. He crept inside, hurrying up the stairs to the room Harry had been staying at last time he'd come to get him in fifth year. He frowned when he realized that the locks that had been on the door had been removed. Carefully, he opened the door and his frown deepened when he realized that Harry wasn't in the room – and neither were any of things. Only Hedwig remained there, silent and staring in her cage. Remus turned away and took in a deep breath, letting all of the smells in the house wash over him.

He could scent the two adult Dursley's in their bed – the man reeking of violence and anger and fear, while the woman smelled of jealousy, and neatness, and also, although the scent was nearly non-existent, of Lily. The boy-child in the next room had the scent about him that Remus had always found on the rich; a smell that said his entire life had been sheltered and he was pampered to the extreme. And finally, there was Harry's scent. It was thinner, which meant that he was downstairs somewhere, but Remus was alarmed to find his cub smelt of blood and pain and hunger. Growling lowly in his throat, he hurried downstairs, following the scent until he reached a small cupboard.

Moony was raging inside, and Remus' eyes had turned shades lighter to golden. The door to the cupboard was locked, so Remus shakily performed _Alohomora_. The door swung open silently to reveal his precious cub, and Remus felt like vomiting.

Harry was nearly naked – only the barest strips of cloth held together around his waist, protecting his dignity. This allowed Remus to clearly see carved in FREAK that decorated Harry's torso, as well as the strips of flesh that had been nearly swiped away by a knife. Harry's legs were covered in welts, and Remus could see a clearly broken leg bone in his left one. Quite a few of his ribs were visibly broken, standing out along his emancipated torso, and he had two dark black eyes. Dozens of bruises covered his shoulders and arms, his pinkie was broken, and there was a vicious handprint outlined in purple on his right cheek. Remus felt tears build up in the back of his throat as he tried to carefully move Harry around so he could see his back. Harry whimpered, but he was already in a deep, healing sleep and did not wake. His back was decorated with even more welts – most of them deeper than the ones on his legs and torso, and the small of his back had a gigantic mass of bruises that ranged from yellow to purple. The back of his legs had been swiped with a knife, probably making it intensely difficult for Harry to stand.

Remus got to his feet shakily, feel more anger and hatred towards muggles than he ever had in his entire life. He needed to get Harry out of here, Headmaster be damned. Albus had been the one to put his precious cub in this house, the one who refused to take him out of it. Remus lifted his wand and performed _Molicorpus_ on Harry's limp frame, carefully easing him out of the cupboard and laying him on the stiff couch in the living room. He then rushed upstairs to set Hedwig free.

"We'll be going to –" Remus stopped and frantically groped for a place in his mind. "Egypt," he said, finally. Bill was in Egypt – he'd house them for a while. "Find Bill Weasley's place in a week, and we'll be there," he told her firmly. He knew from experience that Hedwig was a sharp owl. She hooted at him and turned to leave through the window. Remus was gone before she disappeared from sight.

He lifted Harry into the air magically again, but stopped before they reached the door. Severus was still out there. He didn't know if the man would stop him or not, but this was the only way out of the house, and he needed to get Harry out of here. Remus' face tightened. He'd have to hope that either Severus didn't see them (unlikely) or that Remus could convince him to let them go (even more unlikely).

He carefully made his way outside and managed exactly two yards before he heard Severus' hissed, "Lupin!"

He half-turned to see Severus staring at his cub with narrowed black eyes. "Yes, Severus?" he asked calmly, as if he was not smuggling out Harry Potter in the dead of night.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, you moon-struck buffoon," Severus hissed to him. "Why are you taking Potter away?"

Lupin's eyes glowed golden for a second as he remembered his anger, but he shoved it aside. He needed to save Harry first. "He requires medical attention," Lupin said calmly. "And I do not trust the Dursley's to tell the Headmaster the truth when he comes to visit tomorrow. So I'm taking him away now."

Severus frowned and his dark eyes moved to the body in front of Remus. Only years of knowing the other man let Remus see the slight surprise in Severus' face.

" . . . That's Potter?" he asked lowly, and his eyes slowly swiveled back to the house behind Remus. The werewolf smiled tightly to himself – at least someone wasn't as blind as Dumbledore.

"Yes," he said. "It's been going on for a while." Severus' eyes returned to the boy's prone body. "I tried to tell the Headmaster, but he just waved off my complaints. He was going to come tomorrow, but he was going to send a letter, so I came tonight so I could get the true scope of things." Remus was babbling now, but a part of him was afraid that Severus might snarl and take out his wand and ruin his plans. If the ex-spy did that, then Harry was damned.

But Severus didn't, for whatever reason. Instead he inclined his head and said, "Madame Pomphrey is much more secretive then you would expect from a Hogwarts nurse," before turning around to leave.

Remus gaped at his back for a moment before Severus' statement hit him and he grinned. Well! It looked like Severus wasn't as uncaring about Harry as he may seem. But, remembering the painfully thin, sharp boy Severus had been, Remus thought there might be more to it than Severus' heart going soft.

He turned and walked to the street, past the anti-Disapparation wards posted around the Dursley home. Then he careful drifted Harry into his arms and disappeared with a crack off the street.

* * *

In the dark was not a fun place to be.

Wherever he was, Harry couldn't see. He couldn't feel either, or move. There were just waves of blackness surrounding him, cloaking him so tightly he felt like he was suffocating.

Then, suddenly, a pinpoint of light shone in the distance. The light grew bigger and bigger until it was it formed the outline of a person – a male person, from what Harry could see. He couldn't make out its features, only the outline of its body. The light-person came closer until he and Harry were standing face to face. Harry noted absently that the light-person was taller than him by at least six inches.

_"Hello," _the person said, and its voice was shadow and light, beauty and darkness, hatred and love, and Harry felt cowed to be in its presence. _"Do not fear, little one,"_ the being said gently. _"I will not harm you. I am here to help you make your way back."_

Harry wondered what the being meant by "back". Where was he? What did he need to go back to? Memories of an older fat man flashed in his mind and he suddenly desperately wished to stay where he was, in the never-ending, suffocating blackness. The being sensed his thoughts, and Harry had the strangest feeling that it was giving him a gentle smile, though he could not see its face.

_"You must go back,"_ it said. _"It is not your time to die. You have great purpose in this world, like a true_ _arcàngelo."_

Before Harry could ask what exactly the last word meant, the being looked up suddenly, and its light darkened. _"I must go. But remember me, little one. I will be in your dreams."_

Then, it disappeared suddenly, like a star dying without warning. And, as Harry started to drift away from the thick sea of darkness, he heard a high, piercing chuckle that sent shivers up his arms. The last thing before he left the word of night was a pair of brilliant golden eyes, staring at him from the shadows.

* * *

**Remus' Home, Scotland  
****July 11th, 1996**

"Is he alright?" Remus asked worriedly from his place on the wall. Madame Poppy Pomphrey just gave him an irritated look and went back to examining her patient.

He'd fire-called her as soon as he entered the small one-room cabin that had served as his home for the last decade or so. She'd come with little questions once he'd told her it was about Harry. He was nervous about having someone so close to Dumbledore in on their secret, but he trusted Severus, to a certain extent. And when he'd seen Poppy's eyes harden when she took in Harry's battered form, he felt that he'd made the right choice. He doubted even Voldemort would be able to pull any information from her.

Finally, Poppy turned to face him with a grave look on her face. "His left leg, pinkie, and seven ribs are broken. He has bruises everywhere, but most will heal within a week except for the ones on the small of his back. The welts, I can heal tonight, but the knife wounds have become infected. He has some internal bleeding, but he got off lucky in that department – there's not nearly as much as there should be. The . . . " Poppy's eyes moved to the large, bold letters imprinted on Harry's chest, "scars I can heal, but only within the next three days. Otherwise, they will set too deeply to remove them. All in all, he's out of the danger zone, and he should recover within a month – I'd say, with potions to aid him, it will take him about two weeks, and that's mostly from the infection."

Remus relaxed. "Thank Merlin," he breathed. He'd been afraid that the wounds were more serious than that; that Harry would never recover. Remus suppressed a shudder – Harry was alive, he would be well again! That was all that mattered.

"He should be awake in the morning," Poppy added, watching Remus' relieved face shrewdly. "Now, Mr. Lupin, would you like explain why Mr. Potter happens to be here in this condition?"

Remus shifted nervously on his feet. _'How is it one look from this woman can turn me back into a sheepish schoolboy?'_ he wondered. "Harry's guardians are not as generous to him as some people would assume," he murmured at last, wishing that he didn't have to reveal Harry's secrets.

Poppy's eyes narrowed. "Does the Headmaster know of this?" She raised an eyebrow at Remus' stiff look. "Perhaps you do not want him to know of it?" she asked perceptively. Remus nodded at once.

"He placed Harry in that house," Remus explained, feeling his eyes narrow with anger. "I don't trust him with my cub's safety."

Poppy nodded in understanding. "Very well. I will not tell the Headmaster that Mr. Potter is in this condition, or where he has disappeared to." She gave Remus a speculative look. "If I were you, Mr. Lupin, I would leave as soon as possible."

Remus smiled – if it could be called that. It was more an animalistic baring of teeth. "I plan on doing exactly that, Poppy. Rest assured – you won't be seeing Harry or me for a long while."

Poppy gave him a long look for a minute before nodding. "I wish you and Mr. Potter luck, Mr. Lupin. Please look after him." She spared the figure on the bed an exasperatedly fond look and Remus suddenly realized that if the patient had not been Harry, Poppy would not have kept such information to herself. However, Poppy was someone who'd dealt with Harry numerous times over his school years and she harbored towards him the same affection she'd had for James Potter, Severus Snape, and even himself. He smiled and gave a nod of acceptance.

"I'll look after him," he promised, looking over at the bed himself. The only thing that could be seen of Harry was his thick, messy hair poking out from underneath a worn blanket. _'He needs someone to look after him,'_ Remus thought with some sadness. _'But I hope our travelling with strengthen him. If not for me, then for him.'_ Remus' eyes hardened. _'He needs this. We both do. And no meddling old man will stop us!'_

* * *

**Author's Note:** -cringes- Please don't hit me! I know I shouldn't be starting a new story with so many others barely even started but . . . the plot bunnies won't leave me alone! They jumped me in the alley and took my wallet and held it hostage until I wrote this! T.T My library card and meager amount of cash was in that wallet . . . How was I supposed to refuse? But on a more serious note – I'll update this whenever I can, along with the rest of my stories. Please leave a review!


	2. Chapter One: Inheritance

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the reviews guys! I'm a little shocked at how well this story was received, actually. But I'm pleased that my ambush by plot bunnies amounted to something good! ^^

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter One: Inheritance**

"I've never believed in child saviors," Elphaba said. "As far as I'm concerned, children are the ones who need saving." (Wicked by Gregory Maguire)

Any man can be a father. It takes someone special to be a dad. (Unknown)

"We're every one of us alone in this world, Gemma." He doesn't say it bitterly. "But you have company, if you want it." (The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray)

"As it says in another very fine book, it's terribly easy to persuade children that they are worthless." (Inkheart by Cornelia Funke)

Flesh of his flesh. _Child_. Such a powerful word. The most powerful of all. (Inkdeath by Cornelia Funke)

No upbringing can completely eradicate a person's essential character. (Brilliance of the Moon)

We're each of us our own _chiaroscuro_, our own bit of illusion trying to emerge into something solid, something real. We've got to forgive ourselves that. I must remember to forgive myself. Because there's an awful lot of gray to work with. No one can live in the light all the time. (A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray)

"It is one thing to prepare for greatness. It is another entirely to have it thrust upon you." (The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray)

Wesley closed his eyes. There was pain coming and he had to be ready for it. (William Goldman, The Princess Bride)

Does the walker choose the path or the path the walker? (Garth Nix, Sabriel)

It's a helluva start, being able to recognize what makes you happy. (Lucille Ball)

* * *

**Scotland, Remus' Home  
****July 26****th****, 1996**

There was a light shining across his eyes, and Harry Potter didn't appreciate it one bit. He shifted restlessly, trying to escape the strip of light, but it was relentless in it's pursuit of his face. Groaning he slowly opened his eyes, only to have them blinded by the same strip of pesky light. Huffing in annoyance, Harry tried to roll on his side, only to end up gasping in pain as he did so.

"Harry?!" he heard a strangely familiar voice exclaim. "Cub, are you awake?"

"Remus?" Harry croaked out, his throat feeling dry and parched. He tried to turn and see the werewolf, but his back ached in protest and another groan spilled from Harry's lips. "Ouch," he murmured.

Remus' husky laugh hit his ears and Harry frowned when he realized that it was slightly hysterical. "Ouch indeed," the older man said. "You do have every reason to be in pain considering the injuries _that man_ inflicted on you." Harry winced away when he heard Remus' voice fill with passionate anger. The last time someone had been angry around him, it hadn't been a pleasant experience.

"Cub?" Remus' voice had calmed and Harry relaxed slightly. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to get angry. But I can't stand that that muggle laid his hands on you . . . . It wasn't you I was angry with, Harry. I will never be angry with you, you know that right?"

Harry turned his head and finally managed to connect with Remus' amber eyes. He saw the warmth in them and hesitantly gave a slight nod of the head. "I know, Remus," he said quietly. He didn't add that even if he knew that in his head it wouldn't stop his body from reacting. "How did you find me?" he asked suddenly. He remembered being beaten by Vernon – what has caused it was fuzzy in his memory but he thought it had something to do with breaking dishes by accidental magic – but after that everything was a blank.

"I was worried about you," Remus said calmly. "The _Headmaster_," Harry blinked – he couldn't remember Remus ever being so disdainful when he said Dumbledore's name, "was going to let me see you, but I wanted to see how they were treating you without him notifying them. I found you in the _cupboard_." Narrow amber eyes were staring at Harry's face.

Harry sighed. "Where are we?" he asked, trying to change the subject. Remus' lips pursed, but he didn't force the topic.

"We're in my home," he said. "I brought you here after I found you." He hesitated for a moment. "You were in a bad way for a while, but Poppy managed to stabilize you."

Harry blinked. "Madame Pomphrey?" he asked quizzically. "But isn't she . . . ." he trailed off.

"Close to the Headmaster?" Remus asked wryly. "Not as much as you'd think. Although, Cub, I do think that it was you that kept her mouth closed more than anything. She's very fond of you."

Harry blinked again. "I never noticed," he admitted. "I like her as well – she always healed everyone, no matter who they were or how serious their wounds were. And she's fun to ruffle," he added with a smile, remembering a time when he'd been in the hospital wing, bored out of his mind, and had started to poke at Madame Pomphrey. It had been a fun experience – she was a witty, sharp-tongued woman and Harry had liked bantering with her.

Remus laughed. "Your father and Sirius annoyed her to no end," he said, and for the first time since his best friend's death he managed to say Sirius' name without stuttering. "They would always try to sneak me out before I could leave, and when they visited me they always made sure to be as charming as possible to fluster her." Harry smiled gently.

"I wish I could have seen that," he said quietly, meaning it with all of his heart. He knew that his father and Sirius weren't perfect people, but he loved them all the same – maybe even more so, because the love he'd felt for his father before knowing his flaws was idolization. Now, knowing that his father had been a living, breathing human with faults and weaknesses like everyone else Harry knew, he felt that he loved him better.

Remus watched Harry with sad eyes. He knew that it must pain his Cub to have lost his parents so early – especially when everyone insisted on talking about them. _'Myself included,'_ he thought wryly.

"What happens now?" Harry asked, after a few moments of silence.

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It had grown longer from many months of forgetting to cut it, and it now grazed his shoulders. "I don't want you near Dumbledore anymore," he said bluntly. "That old man has not been looking after you, and I don't trust his motives as much as I did when I was a naïve young adult. I thought that maybe . . . ." he hesitated. "I thought maybe we could go away for a while, just the two of us."

Harry's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

"I mean that we leave the wizarding world for a while," Remus said. "We can go explore the world and get away from the problems here. And if you want, I can train you, if you want to come back. If you don't . . . well I wouldn't blame you." Remus sighed. "Too much has been placed on your shoulders Harry. If you want to dump those shackles, I would not blame you in the least."

Harry's head tilted to the side and his bright green eyes were thoughtful. "I know I can't escape this," he said quietly, after a few moments of consideration. "I have to fight Voldemort. Even if it weren't for the . . . prophecy," he sent a questioning look Remus' way and the older man nodded. Dumbledore had told him about the prophecy. "I would still want to fight him. No one else seems to be doing it – not even Dumbledore and the Order. When there's evil like Voldemort, it should be destroyed. If everyone is determined for me to do it, I will. But I want to survive. I don't want to die." Harry's eyes blazed as he said this and Remus marveled at the strength his Cub showed. How could a boy so abused, both mentally and physically, have such strength of will? His question must have shown on his face, for Harry gave a quiet smile and said, "I'm still damaged. But I have people I love now, and I don't plan on leaving them behind. Death isn't so scary – but I don't want the people I love to grieve for me."

Remus' eyes deepened with sadness. How could a boy – not yet sixteen years old! – say that Death wasn't scary with such a calm face?! He should be terrified of leaving this world! _'Oh Harry, what have we done to you?'_ Remus thought and silently mourned the childhood that Harry had surely lost, if he'd ever had it in the first place.

"So you want to leave?" he asked quietly, just to be sure.

Harry nodded. "I think it's best that I stay out of the limelight right now," he admitted. "Voldemort probably won't focus as much on Hogwarts if I'm not there, and Dumbledore can take care of the war for now. If I'm going to do this, I want to do this _right_. No more pretending everything's all right when it isn't. I can't be the one wrapped in cotton wool, Remus."

"I know, Cub," Remus said quietly. "When you recover your strength, we'll start training. And where we're going, there'll be plenty of people willing to teach you different skills than what you would have learned at Hogwarts."

"Oh?" Harry raised an eyebrow – a neat trick that he'd learned from years of secretly watching Snape and copying him. "Where _are_ we going?"

Remus smiled. "I planned some of it out while you were sleeping," he admitted. "First, we're going to Egypt – or, more specifically, to see Bill." Harry frowned.

"He's a member of the Order though, isn't he?" he asked cautiously. "Isn't he with Dumbledore?"

"Bill has always been a rebel," Remus said fondly. "He works with Dumbledore because he's the leader of the light side – he doesn't have any fondness for him. In fact, I daresay he likes you much more than he likes Dumbledore." Harry blinked – it looked like he had plenty of unexpected people on his side. Next Remus would be telling him Snape had a secret soft spot for him. Harry laughed inwardly at that thought. "After that, I thought we could head out to Asia – China and Japan, definitely, but maybe visit some of the smaller countries." Harry gave Remus a questioning look. "Asia is very thorough in magical studies," Remus explained, "more so than the European countries. If you want to learn the arts to defeat Voldemort, that's the place to start. And after that, I thought America. I know just the city too." He smiled mischievously and Harry smiled with him.

It was good to see Remus behaving more like himself – the last time he'd seen the older man had been when he'd been ravaged with grief over Sirius' death. Perhaps it was the sense of purpose their trip had given him or time to be alone and mourn, but Remus seemed better than he had been. Harry was glad for it.

Harry gave a sudden jaw-cracking yawn that made Remus look at him tenderly. "Time for sleep, I think," he said. "I shouldn't have kept you up so long as it is." He covered Harry carefully, laying him back down so that he was comfortable for sleeping. Harry felt his eyelids start to droop and his mind turned fuzzy. However, as he was on the edge of sleep, he heard Remus start to get up. Panicked, he grabbed for him, only just managing to get the edge of Remus' sweater.

"Harry?" Remus' voice was concerned.

"Will you stay here?" he asked, feeling the fright of an empty room and all of his memories swarming up on him. He didn't want to be left alone to his thoughts. Remus, seemingly understanding this, sat back down and grasped Harry's hand.

"I won't leave you alone, Cub," he said firmly. "Never."

* * *

Harry knew that he was not awake. His eyes were open, but there was no way he could be awake, for all around him was a stretch of gray, blank area. The gray was a dark charcoal and there was no sign of any other color anywhere that Harry could see. There weren't even different shades of the gray signifying ground or sky – just an all-encompassing shadowy color.

The sudden sound of footsteps took him off-guard. Harry turned (or, at least, he thought he did) and saw a person coming towards him. Or, at least, he thought it was a person. The gray color blurred his vision; he'd had it happen to him during twilight time in the real world. But what he could tell of the person was that they were tall and definitely not gray colored.

"Who are you?" he called out to the person. The person just continued walking towards him. And suddenly it was there, in front of him, as if it had appeared from one point to the next. Up close, Harry could suddenly see all the little details that had been blurred to him because of the shadows. The person was a man – an intolerably beautiful one, but a man nonetheless. His hair was long and chocolate brown, but his eyes were a calm silver color. He was dressed in rich blue robes that stood out all the more for the lack of bright colors in the landscape. However, the most interesting part of the man was the tiny tattooed patterns on his face – they followed his eyes and cheekbones almost like a mask and disappeared down the side of his neck.

"I lost my name long ago, little one," the man said gently, and Harry frowned, trying to place the voice. He was sure he'd heard something like it before . . . perhaps in another dream. "But you may call me Arrian."

"Arrian," Harry said, tasting the name in his mouth. "Where are we?"

"_Terra di Ombra,_" Arrian said. "The Land of Shadows, as my people calls it. It is a place of limbo, where those neither dead nor alive live. But that is not why you are here."

"Why am I here then?" Harry asked bluntly, not one to mince words.

"I suppose you do not remember what he told you at the last meeting," Arrian said, almost to himself. "But that cannot be helped – you were not in a good state of mind, and you were being watched. But I will tell you what you need to know now. Sit; this will be a long story."

Harry sat hesitantly and absently wondered what exactly he was sitting on. It didn't feel like cold hard ground – it felt more like a cot, round and soft. Arrian sat with him, folding his robe around him like a lady's skirt.

"What's going on?" Harry asked. "What am I here for?"

"Wait a moment, youngling," Arrian said. After a moment of silence he took a deep breath. "Have you ever heard of the beings called arcàngelo?"

Harry searched his memory. "No."

"Not surprising. You are English, and magical England is not very open-minded about magical creatures. But I shall tell you about them. Arcàngelo is the Italian word for archangel. Do you know what an archangel is?"

Harry frowned. It sounded vaguely familiar – he might have heard of them from the few times the Dursleys had been forced to bring him to church. "Aren't they a division of angels?" he suggested feebly.

He got laughter again. "In the muggle world, yes they are. But in the magical world, they are a magical creature, one that was born in _L'Italia_, Italy, thus our Italian name. Arcàngelo are what wizards would call "dark creatures", although wizards always seem to forget that dark does not necessarily mean evil. Dark creatures are merely creatures that use predominately dark magic, and while that magic is wilder and deeper than light magic, it is anything but evil. Do you understand this?"

Harry thought of Remus, who was a dark creature but so kind and nodded. He had had bad experiences with dark wizards, but he couldn't believe that everything dark was evil.

"These creatures are descended from the seven archangels of muggle religions – but over time they have become magical on their own right. They have wings – of course, what is an angel without wings! – and extraordinary powers; heightened senses, aura sight, the ability to see in the future, the ability to enter and change dreams, elemental skills, and so much more. In the time when we were plentiful, we were considered great healers and peacemakers."

"That's all very interesting, Arrian, but why are you telling me this?" Harry asked, but a sense of foreboding had fallen upon him – he had an idea why Arrian was talking about this.

"Because, Harry, you are an arcàngelo yourself."

There was silence for a few beats as Harry swallowed this knowledge. "N-no!" he cried finally. "I can't be!" _'I don't want to be even more different than I already am!'_ he thought with despair. _'I want to be normal!'_

Arrian sighed, as if he could sense Harry's thoughts. "You are. Your mother, god bless her soul, had the line dormant inside of her. There aren't many female arcàngelo; usually the blood stays dormant until they have a son. Your grandmother's family had the blood, but it's skipped many generations. You're the first Evans arcàngelo for nearly two centuries."

"But--!" Harry wanted to protest. Surely there had to be some way to deny this, someway to stop this from happening to him.

"Harry," Arrian's eyes were stern as they turned down on him. "This may be difficult for you to accept, but you must. If you struggle with your creature self it could resolve in harm during your _rinascita_."

"Rinascita?" Harry asked, his tongue stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables.

"In English, I believe the word would be rebirth. It happens on your sixteenth birthday. Every arcàngelo goes through it. It is the time when your gifts flourish and you develop your wings, tattoos, and true physical body."

"Tattoos?" Harry said weakly. His head was spinning from the amount of shocking information being thrown at him. He felt like a character in a book he'd read as a child – Alice, that was her name. Arrian, seemingly realizing Harry's confusion, sighed.

"I suppose you'd better rest. We can talk more about this the next time you dream. I will have to prepare you for your rinascita."

"Why am I seeing you like this?" Harry asked, unwilling to leave without this final question answered. "Why do you appear in my dreams?"

Arrian's eyes seemed to soften. "Every arcàngelo has a mentor, a _regolare_. They are the one to guide the arcàngelo through the process of their rinascita and everything that happens afterwards until their arcàngelo finds its mate. They are usually the dead spirits of arcàngelo. I am your regolare."

Harry stared at him. "We die then?" he said, asking the only question that could make its way past his lips. He wasn't sure how to react to the fact that he was probably talking to a spirit.

"Every creature must die, Harry Potter," Arrian said formally. "It is only a matter of when they do it. We live much longer than humans; the oldest among us can be up to thousands of years old. But we die. Death is a part of life, and to try and escape it is folly. But you must leave now. You need to be well rested." Arrian stood and then bent down and laid a dry, cool kiss to Harry's forehead. "Sleep, _fanciullo_."

And suddenly, the world of gray was gone.

* * *

**Scotland, Remus' Home  
****July 27****th****, 1996**

"So let me get this straight," Remus said, trying to contain a stoic face. "You are a descendant of a powerful race of archangels. You're supposed to go into this inheritance thing in less than a week, and you have a mentor that may or may not be a ghost." He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Only you Harry, only you."

Harry grinned nervously, picking absently at the bandage around his arm. "I know. It does sound crazy, but I think that Arrian is telling the truth. These dreams, Remus – they don't feel like dreams." He frowned, wondering how he could explain it to Remus. "It feels real – I don't know how to say it," he said, spreading his hands helplessly. "I just know I'm not imagining the whole thing."

"It's alright – I believe you. You're not the type to make up stories for attention – after all, you have more than enough of it as it is. But my question is if this awakening thing – you called it the rebirth, didn't you? – is going to hurt. I'm not sure how well your body can stand up to more injuries, Harry." Remus was all worry. Harry smiled slightly.

"I'll ask Arrian tonight," he said, his eyes glowing slightly. Remus refused to acknowledge the slight amount of jealousy he felt at Harry having someone else to confide in. Harry was his Cub, but that didn't mean he was going to horde the boy. He was allowed to have other people to talk to, even if Moony railed against that idea.

"By the way – did you say something about wings? And tattoos?"

Harry groaned. "I know! I'm going to look . . . _freakish_." There was loathing in his voice as he said that word.

Remus' eyes narrowed. "Harry?" he asked with an edge on his voice.

Harry blinked and then cursed himself inwardly. He hadn't meant to say that last part out loud. "Uhm . . . I'm going to look strange?" he offered weakly, though he knew Remus didn't buy it.

"What did they say to you?!" Remus asked, and his eyes were starting to turn golden at the edges. Harry hunkered down in his bed, shivering slightly. "What did those muggles that call themselves your relatives call you, Harry?!"

"I . . . don't know what you mean," he said.

"Harry." Remus' voice left no room for argument.

Harry bit his lip. He didn't want to tell Remus. He never wanted anyone to find out about the Dursleys; he didn't want people to know of the shaming things they'd done to him. He didn't want to see the pity in their eyes for poor, abused Harry Potter. He knew that it would happen – especially with the Weasley family, who didn't seem to comprehend that other families sometimes didn't have the same love for each that they did. It would just be another sob-story spread around, and no doubt people like Malfoy and Snape would sneer at him and think him an attention-seeker for letting it. Harry laughed bitterly to himself – as if he had any say in the gossip that went around.

"Harry!" Remus' barked and Harry flinched. Instantly, Remus' eyes softened and turned back to their usual amber color. "I'm sorry," he offered quietly. "But I want to know. I need to know."

Harry swallowed thickly. Remus had already seen his wounds, but no sign of pity was on his face. There was compassion perhaps, and sadness, but no pity. He knew he could trust Remus – even if he hadn't been friends with his father, Remus was more than trustworthy. He was one of the kindest people Harry knew, and he was a good man. So maybe, just maybe, Harry could confide in him.

"They . . . called me freak. Some of the time," he said quietly. "My name until I was six was boy. I learned that my name was Harry Potter from one of the grade school teachers. They said that I was worthless. That I was the child of two people that were better off dead and that they wished that I'd been killed in the car crash too." Harry laughed, and the sound was bitter and cold. "Sometimes I wish I'd died too."

Remus' eyes were hard. "No you don't."

Harry sighed. "No, I don't," he admitted. "But death would be so much easier. My mum and dad would be there, and Sirius . . . ." Harry sounded so wistful, which alarmed Remus quite a bit. No teenager should wish to be dead.

"But I'm here, Harry. So are Hermione and Ron and the people you care about." He grasped Harry's hand.

"I know," Harry said. "But living is hard Remus. Do you notice? Some days are so hard that I really do wish that I'd died. Because death is so much easier."

Remus sighed. "Some days, Harry, I felt the same. But you know? It takes courage to live. And you have courage in abundance."

Harry smiled slightly. "I'd like to think so. But doesn't everyone want to be brave?"

"You are, Harry. You're braver than anyone I know." _'You're braver than Lily, who had to face her sister's hate, and braver than Sirius who had to face his family's prejudice. Perhaps even braver than Severus, who would have fitted in easily in Gryffindor for all the courage that he's shown. But then, it's a different kind of courage than Gryffindors are used to.'_

"Thanks Remus," Harry said, subdued. He sighed and rubbed his face wearily. "I'd better get some more sleep . . . . I feel like I only slept for a few hours instead of ten." He sank back down into the bed, groaning as his wounds throbbed. They had healed somewhat, but the bruises were taking longer than expected to fade, and his ribs were still sore. But he would be forever grateful to Madame Pomphrey for getting rid of his scars. He shivered slightly as he remembered the wild look in Vernon's eyes as he carved into Harry's flesh – that day would be burned into his memory forever.

Remus watched with concern as Harry's face turned haggard. "Sleep, cub," he said, smoothing blankets over Harry's pale, thin form. "I'll stay with you until you do."

Harry turned a sleepy smile Remus' way and Remus felt a fierce stab of protectiveness and love. Remus considered Harry to be his child, though he doubted Harry realized the true significance of the term cub. _'Or maybe he does,'_ Remus thought, gripping Harry's hand as his breathing deepened. _'Harry was always much smarter than people gave him credit for. Perhaps when compared to someone like Hermione, people like Harry can just slip under notice.'_

Remus straightened in his chair, his brow furrowing. _'Maybe that's what he wanted to do,'_ he thought. _'But is Harry sneaky enough to do that sort of thing? I don't know.'_ Remus stared at Harry's sleeping form. He'd have to ask him, when he woke.

* * *

"I will tell you all the details you need to know about the rinascita now, Harry," Arrian told him the night before Harry's rebirth. Arrian had been refusing to tell him for the last three days, insisting it was knowledge best left to the last minute. And now, only hours before Harry would change completely, he was offering up said knowledge.

"It is better you did not know it before – you would have panicked," Arrian said apologetically.

Harry sighed. "I know. But not knowing what was going to happen drove me crazy as well."

Arrian smiled. Harry had started to get to know the strange arcàngelo more over the past few days, and he found himself getting comfortable in his company.

"Now – the rinascita is, very literally, a rebirth," Arrian said, launching into his explanation. "Never has an arcàngelo gone through it and looked the same afterwards. It usually begins at the exact time the arcàngelo entered the world sixteen years ago – for you, this would be the thirty-first of July, at 11:58 P.M. correct?" Harry nodded. "So it will be then, for you. The pain is, well, excruciating. To put it mildly." Harry must have looked alarmed, for Arrian rushed to reassure him. "It only lasts a little while. Your body goes through very rapid changes, and that causes a lot of pain."

"Will it affect my healing process?" Harry asked apprehensively. He and Remus wanted to leave soon after Harry's birthday – he didn't want to be stuck in bed for much longer.

"No!" Arrian said. "In fact, after the pain you will be completely healed. Arcàngelo are remarkable healers – I wouldn't be surprised if your remaining wounds disappear after this as well."

"That's great!" Harry cried. They might be able to leave sooner than they planned, if that was the case.

"Now, as to what you shall see after your rinascita," Arrian said. "You will have received your tattoos, of course, and your wings."

"Tattoos of what?" Harry asked. Arrian frowned.

"They depend a lot on the individual arcàngelo," he said. "There will be a pattern down your arms – if you are elemental than it will probably be of your element, and if not, than it will be of a pattern that you have good memories of. On your back you will have your animal spirit."

"Animal spirit?" Harry asked feeling slightly panicked. He'd never been into the whole "teenage rebellion" thing, like Dudley had been. Tattoos and body piercings had never been his thing, and now he found that he was going to have his entire body painted!

"Yes. Arcàngelo are extremely connected to nature – we are one of the only creatures able to control the elements," Arrian explained. "We all have an animal spirit – a sort of bestial guide, if you will. Some arcàngelo have likened it to the wizard's Animagus transformation." Harry relaxed slightly – that didn't sound so bad. "Your legs will have the same designs as your arms," Arrian continued briskly. "But your face will be left clear. It is a ritual for an arcàngelo's 17th birthday to choose what design they want to put on their face as a sign that while many things are predestined, there are still some paths that can be chosen."

"What about the wings?" Harry asked, wanting to get on some solid ground. That tattoos sounded confusing and complicated, but surely the wings would be simple. How complicated could wings be?

"Your wings will likely be twice your height in span so that they can hold your weight, and will have feathers like all the angel pictures muggles like to make. However, the color of them is dependent on the arcàngelo. Sometimes the color is based off personality, sometimes off of gift. Also, if your wings are rimmed in gold or silver, it means that you have the power of the Sight. I doubt yours will though – there haven't been any Seers in the Evans line. More likely, you'll have Aura Sight."

"Aura Sight?" Harry asked.

"The ability to see and decipher auras," Arrian explained. "It's what made your family such a wonderful healing group. They also usually received the gift of empathy as well."

"Merlin," Harry said, feeling slightly overwhelmed. He would be entirely different in just a few hours and he didn't know exactly what he was supposed to think of that.

"Your wings will be able to be retracted, of course, but pulling them in and out the first few times will be extremely painful and bloody," Arrian continued. "The more you do it, the more you'll get used to it, though. The wings will retract into your body and leave thin white scars behind – if you think about wanting them to be out, they will be. The simplicity of magic," he added with a wry smile.

"Is there anything else I need to know?" Harry asked anxiously. "About my gifts or if I'll have any new instincts once I wake up . . . .?"

"Hmm . . . . Well, you will have a heat period," Arrian admitted. Harry gaped at him. "What? It's true. Your heat will only last three weeks – the last three weeks of February, as it is. But if you mate with someone, then it will only be focused on them."

"Mate?! Do we have a chosen mate?!" Harry asked frantically, remembering what he'd read of Werewolves and Veela.

"No! We choose who we wish to mate with . . . . You might feel more of a pull to other creatures than to wizards, but it is your choice who you want to mate with. I'd suggest you stay away from creatures during your heat though . . . they'll probably be drawn to you."

"Remus is a werewolf," Harry said anxiously, having told Arrian of his guardian at their second meeting.

"He won't be affected," Arrian said. "His werewolf sees you as his "cub", or his child. Since he is your "parent" he won't feel the urge to mate with you."

"I see," Harry said with a sigh. "It seems so complicated."

"Turning into a new creature always is," Arrian said with a half-smile. "But isn't being a wizard complicated as well?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Harry said, thinking back on all the social rules and regulations wizards had.

They sat in silence for a few moments. "Arrian, are you dead?" Harry asked before he could stop himself and then blinked as he realized how blunt that had been. He hadn't meant to blurt it out so crudely, but the question had been weighing on his mind for the last couple of days.

Arrian laughed. "Yes, child, I am. I have been dead for many long years. Now I exist here – in the Land of Shadow."

"Isn't there a better place for you to go to?" Harry asked. "Why are you stuck here?"

"Yes, there is a place to go to," Arrian said. "We call it _Terra di perfezione_ – the Land of Perfection. It is what mortals call "Heaven". This land is, as I told you before, a place in between. Regolare stay here to mentor their arcàngelo students and then, when they have mated, they progress to Terra di perfezione."

Harry frowned. "Don't you wish you weren't a . . . regolare?" he asked, his tongue stumbling over the word.

"Not really, no," Arrian said with a shake of his head. "I enjoy it here. After you have mated, I will be free to move on, but I am glad to have stayed behind." He gave Harry a gentle smile. "But now, I believe that your rinascita will soon be starting. You must rest." He placed a hand over Harry's forehead and before he could protest, Harry sank into the darkness.

* * *

Harry had endured Crucio's from Voldemort himself, but this pain beat out any dark spell ever uttered in his direction. It was pain at its truest form – mind-numbing, bone-tearing, heart-breaking, tear-inducing _pain_.

Harry knew, in the back of his mind, that he was screaming. He also knew that there was two people holding him down – he could feel four hands pressed against his arms and legs, pressing him into the bed so he wouldn't flail around. But at the moment, most of his mind was focused on the pain tearing through his back and arms and legs. His back was the worst area. The muscles there felt bunched and torn, and he could feel something trying to push its way through the layer of skin between his shoulder-blades. It was excruciating, and Harry tried to twist so he was on his stomach, thinking that maybe taking the pressure off of it would help, but the hands held him down. Harry screamed again as he felt something burst out of his back, and felt the warm splatter of blood across his body.

Harry panted slightly and then his head tilted back as new pain came roaring down his arms and legs. The pain started out as tiny prickles but then escalated until Harry felt as if someone was digging numerous knives deep into his skin. Then, unexpectedly, the pain on his back roared up again and Harry screamed and screamed until his voice went hoarse. Then, suddenly, the pain stopped and Harry fell to the bed limp and panting.

"Harry?" Remus' voice came only minutes later. Harry felt desperately exhausted, and he was lying awkwardly on his back, but he opened his weary eyes to look into Remus' worried face. He gave an exhausted smile.

"I'm fine," he said. "Can you get me up?"

"Mr. Potter!" Poppy Pomphrey's voice came from the other side of the bed. "You are in no condition to even be awake, let alone moved . . . ." She trailed off and watched in surprise as Harry lifted himself up and wearily tried to stand. Despite being covered in his own blood and bone-tired, Harry felt surprisingly strong. Remus reached out and clasped his elbow, helping Harry to the bathroom, where a floor-length mirror (courtesy of Sirius, in Remus' early days of living there) stood. Harry blinked when he saw himself.

He'd always been short. It had irritated him greatly over the years, being the shortest kid in his year (and shorter than half of the younger years). Thus, Harry was grateful that he hadn't gotten any shorter than his current 5'3", but he was also greatly annoyed that he hadn't grown any taller either. His hair, which had been starting to grow long from neglect on Harry's part, had shot down past his shoulders. It was still as wild as ever, making a general mess of itself as it made its way down Harry's back. Harry, to his surprise, found he liked that style. When it was short, it looked ridiculous, but longer it looked better.

His skin had been tanned, but with the rebirth it had lightened several shades until his skin was colored, to Harry's embarrassment, an almost ivory color. It made his eyes – still the same shade of sharp emerald green, to Harry's relief – stand out sharply. The planes of his face had sharpened and narrowed as well, giving his face less of a boyish look. His body, thankfully, was the same as it always had been – too skinny, but wiry with muscles gained from years of doing hard chores and Quidditch. Only his hands had changed – instead of the small palm and short fingers, he had longer, more elegant hands that reminded him of Arrian's.

But, the most surprising changes were not in his body or face, but in the proud objects jutting out from his back: wings. They were gloriously black, a deep stark color that reminded Harry, oddly enough, of Snape's eyes, but they had deep rivulets of color running through them; dark green, midnight blue, and royal purple. They jutted from his shoulder-blades and raised a full head and a half higher than him, making Harry's height seem all the more extraordinarily small, to the black-haired arcàngelo's disgruntlement.

There were also the tattoos. Everything Arrian could have said about them would not have prepared Harry for the reality of having them.

A dark crimson colored flame pattern circled around Harry's left side, moving down his arm, around his torso, down his legs, and finishing in a spiral on his foot. The pattern followed along his collarbone and then connected with another pattern – one of a gust of air, colored a light gold that should have clashed with the red but didn't. The gust of air pattern followed the same path as the fire did, going only a step lower when it circled his chest, and made for a very odd looking picture for Harry to look down at. The pattern on his collarbone was the most beautiful, in Harry's opinion. The red fire and gold air didn't just join together – in between them was a black crescent moon, in the exact middle of his collarbone, where the red fire and gold air both connected. It made for a very mesmerizing looking picture.

Harry turned slightly and winced at the look of bloody, ripped skin on his back. He hoped Arrian was right about his healing powers. But that wasn't what he wanted to look at – it was more the picture covering the bottom half of his back, where the skin hadn't been ripped up by his wings. Harry tried to flutter the wings apart so he could look at the tattoo more closely, but they suddenly jutted apart as he spread them as far as he could in the tiny room.

"Whoa!" Remus cried, and Harry started when he realized his guardian was still in the room, looking at Harry's new body with awe. Harry flushed slightly, but since he wanted to look at the tattoo on his back he didn't retract his wings. Instead, he craned his head around and blinked when he saw the animal on his back.

It was of a cat – Harry knew that much. Although this cat wasn't like any one Harry had ever seen. He thought that its body shape was very much like a jaguar's, but it's fur was colored a brilliant white with only the slightest of light silver markings on its paws and around its eyes. Its eyes were a brilliant green – the same color as Harry's own – and even though its mouth was closed, two long, sharp teeth curved out over its lower lip. Harry was suddenly reminded of a Saber tooth Tiger – the kind he'd learned about in school before he'd went to Hogwarts.

"That's a Nundu!" **(1)** Remus cried out when he saw the picture on Harry's back. "A Snow Nundu," he murmured more quietly. "One of the rarest animals in the world, both muggle and magical."

Harry sighed. It seemed even his animal guide was fated to be special. But he liked the cat tattoo – there was something comforting about it. Harry smiled slightly and then turned his focus to his wings. He'd need to retract them if he wanted to sleep . . . and boy, did he _ever_ want to sleep. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. _'I want my wings inside,'_ he thought calmly. He repeated the thought and then fell to the ground as agonizing pain ripped through him.

"Harry!" Remus called out frantically, but as soon as the pain had started, it ended. Harry blinked and cautiously looked over his shoulder, only to smile in relief when he saw that his wings were gone. He looked in the mirror and, just as Arrian had promised, there were white scars running down his shoulder-blades where the wings came out.

Harry sighed and took off the tattered remains of his pants. He must have been clawing through them, for there were long tears down the seams, and his fingers were red and bruised. He was glad that his boxers had survived the fray.

"Could I get some new pajamas, please?" Harry asked Remus quietly. "I think I need to sleep for a bit."

Remus nodded and turned to go get the clothes.

"Remus." Remus halted in the doorway. "When I wake up . . . we can leave."

Remus looked over his shoulder and together both guardian and charge smiled in satisfaction.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whew! Finally done. This chapter turned out a lot longer than I originally planned . . . . Now, I know you all want to see Edward and Harry meet, but there was some stuff I needed to get done before I moved Remus and Harry to Forks. Next chapter we'll see them in Forks, and Harry and Edward will meet for the first time . . . . –plays Twilight Zone theme music- What will happen? Who knows. XD Please leave a review!

**(1)** I know that the Nundu is a desert animal, and shouldn't be white, but I decided to make my own sub-species – the Ice Nundu! Just as dangerous as its desert cousin, the Snow Nundu has a breath that can freeze anyone in a seven mile radius. It can move in total silence and survive temperatures under -50 degrees.

_fanciullo: _Child


	3. Interlude One: Letters and Reactions

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **Purple Uranium** for giving the idea for this interlude.

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Interlude One: Letters and Reactions**

_September 4__th__, 1996; Daily Prophet Front Page_

_BOY-WHO-LIVED, DISAPPEARED!_

_Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has been missing since, authorities believe, the end of July. Mr. Potter had been living with his only living family, Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley. As of now, there has been no evidence that supports the capture of Mr. Potter by You-Know-Who, but still, the locals wonder._

_Mr. Perfy, a local gardener, says, "That Potter boy always seems to have a nose for trouble; I wouldn't be surprised in the least if You-Know-Who got him."_

_But still, Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwart's Groundskeeper, says, "Harry's got a good head on his shoulders. If anyone could get out of trouble, it'd be him."_

_But Headmaster Dumbledore, the one most closely involved in the search for the missing Harry Potter, has refused to comment on his student. Has Mr. Potter been captured by Dark Forces? Or has he simply run away from his duty? This reporter wonders._

_By: Rita Skeeter_

* * *

"So, the Potter-child has fled."

Voldemort said this to an empty room, his brilliant red eyes narrow and intense in his pale, thin face. The shadow of madness was still painted in his features, but it was much fainter than when he had risen. The more time he spent alive, the less crazy he felt. With every passing moment, he regained the genius and cunning that had made him so formidable an opponent to the light forces.

"But why would he flee? He is a Gryffindor, prone to foolhardy displays of courage . . . ." Voldemort mused out loud, a habit born of many years spent alone, roaming the world as only a spirit. "But maybe the lion has some snake in him after all," he said, thinking of all the events Potter had gone through as a child and teenager. "He must have enough sense to flee. He is preparing himself to meet me." Voldemort chuckled, a dry, low sound. His high, piercing wail of a laugh was used only to showcase his evil nature. "As if he could ever hope to beat me. Foolish child."

His fingers traced the outline of his wand distractedly, as he mused over the possibilities of what Harry Potter was doing. Finally, he came to a decision.

"Let the child train. It will take years for him to be able to beat me, so I have nothing to worry about from him. With him gone, I can concentrate on other things. Harry Potter will only be my concern when he steps foot in Britain again." Voldemort nodded, satisfied with his decision. "Now to call my _faithful_ followers," he said with a sneer, well aware that most of his followers would be willing to stab him in the back if it could help them. With a sigh, he stood.

"Pettigrew!" he called, and swept from the room, his mind moving away from Harry Potter and onto more important things.

* * *

_Dear Hermione and Ron,_

_I know you're probably both upset and angry (I know Hermione is probably searching crazily through books and Ron has said "Bloody Hell," at least three times) but please read through this letter before you think about taking it to Dumbledore._

_Remus and I have gone away for a while. We'll be coming back, so don't worry about that, but probably not for a year or more. I need to train, guys, and what I need to know isn't in England. Hermione, you probably know how diverse and cultured the rest of the magical world is; you can probably understand why I'd rather go there instead of stay in England for my education. I need this, guys. I don't want to die fighting Voldemort._

_Hermione, please keep an eye on Dumbledore's doings for me. I know you think the sun shines out of his arse (don't scold me for swearing!) but he isn't as kind and grandfatherly as he likes to paint himself as. He's wily and manipulative, so keep as far away from him as you can, all right? That goes for you too, Ron. I know you two can take care of yourselves._

_Ron, do you think you could spread some rumors about me? Say that I've gone to Africa to fight bears so I can tackle Voldemort and bite his head off with my mysterious (or not-so-mysterious anymore) Animagus form, or anything that comes to mind. So long as it's ridiculous enough for the wonderful populace to buy it._

_I'll keep sending you letters. But please don't show them to Dumbledore. Even if you object to everything else I ask of you, please don't do this one thing. He can't know where I am. He'll make me come back, and I'm not ready yet._

_Love,  
__Harry_

_P.S. Could you get Luna and Neville together and give them the extra letter I've encased in here?_

* * *

"Ron?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Let's get to work."

* * *

_Dear Luna and Neville,_

_Hermione and Ron have probably told you that I've gone by now. Hopefully they've already explained my reasons way, for I don't have enough time to explain it again, unfortunately. Please try to understand. I will come back – but I need to be ready._

_Luna, you know how special you are. I didn't even realize until this summer. Please try to research your gift and if you have any visions, please tell me of them. Especially if you think they concern me._

_Neville, there is no one more that I would trust with leadership of the DA. Please try to keep it going. The students of Hogwarts are going to need its lessons in the battles to come. Also – see if you can get some of the Slytherins to join. They'll need to know how to defend themselves just as much as every other house in Hogwarts._

_Please take care of yourselves. I don't want to see you get hurt._

_Love,  
__Harry_

* * *

"How could you let him escape, Severus?"

Albus Dumbledore never yelled. That's what Severus Snape hated most about him. Whenever he was angry, his voice got milder and milder. It was a tactic Severus knew was meant to make him feel that the great wizard was disappointed in him, thus making him suitably pliant and guilty. It was a good thing that Severus didn't deal well with guilt.

"I told you, Headmaster, I saw nothing of what went on in that house," he said stoically. "The boy was there when I got there, and gone in the morning. Whoever took him must have been very sneaky."

Severus looked into Dumbledore's face and felt a poke against the solid barriers of his mind shield. "If you try and look in my head one more time, _Headmaster_," he hissed, "you'll find yourself without one." Albus just smiled.

"I don't know what you mean my boy. But are you certain you saw nothing? Perhaps I should take a look at your memory of that night in a Pensieve to see what I can manage of it . . . ."

"No, Headmaster," Severus said sternly. "My memories are my own. I am certain that I saw nothing. Harry Potter has disappeared. I know that he has not been captured by Voldemort, but that is _all_ I know." He was lying, of course, by he was a good liar and he knew that even if Dumbledore suspected he wasn't telling the truth, he wouldn't be able to find out what Severus was hiding. Severus was good at keeping secrets.

"Very well then. We will, of course, aid the Aurors in searching for Harry, and send out some of our own. Will you help, Severus?" Stern blue eyes silently commanded him to volunteer. Severus inwardly smirked; Dumbledore couldn't have given him a more perfect job.

"Of course, sir."

* * *

_October 15__th__, 1996_

_Lupin,_

_You are in danger. Aurors are constantly searching for Potter, and since I am part of the "retrieval team", I know that they are close to finding you in your hideaway. If I were you, I'd run as soon as possible. Even your moon-addled mind must know that nothing good can come of them finding you. Keep Potter safe._

_SS_

* * *

_October 23__rd__, 1996_

_Dear Severus,_

_Thank you for the warning. Harry and I got out just in time. Currently we're in a much safer place . . . . One that will, hopefully, take the Aurors longer to find. Please keep us updated on any news you can – your bird will always be able to find us, no matter what wards we may be under. Keep yourself safe._

_RL_

* * *

_November 5__th__, 1996_

_Lupin,_

_Cease the needless salutation – we are allies, not friends. The Aurors know that you are in Africa, but they don't know where yet. Africa's magical government is being uncooperative to British forces investigating. This will help you buy time, but don't expect it to last long. Leave as soon as you can._

_SS_

* * *

_November 11__th__, 1996_

_Severus,_

_I merely thought that my letter might be polite. Though I do notice that you aren't making me stop the use of your first name?_

_Harry and I have moved again. He's agitated by it, but he will settle where we are now; there's much to learn. We've recently met a very talented woman who is willing to teach Harry meditative and martial arts. Harry thinks that it will be useful in the future. He's also found someone to teach him magical arts._

_We will keep in touch. Stay safe._

_RL_

* * *

_November 21__st__, 1996_

_Lupin,_

_I do not care if you use my first name. It is unnecessary to consider in times such as these. The Dark Lord has made an attack against Hogsmede and Diagon Alley; many have died. Do not tell Potter. Knowing that ridiculously soft-hearted Gryffindor, he will find and endless supply of self-pity in this battle. Make him focus on his studies – if you can. Merlin knows I've had enough troubles with it._

_The arts Potter is learning will, indeed, be useful. Surprise abilities are always useful. The meditative arts are very similar to Occlumency, which probably means Potter will be dismal at them. What is he learning in magical arts? He needs to be prepared thoroughly, if he wants to survive The Dark Lord. Or if he wants to beat him._

_SS_

* * *

_December 13__th__, 1996_

_Severus,_

_We've been on the run for the last few weeks, so I haven't had a chance to share information with you. Harry found out about the attacks; his magical tutor revealed it to him. Had it been my choice, I would've concealed it, but his tutor felt he ought to know. Idiot man. He knows nothing about Harry. I had to debate with him for three days to keep him from coming back to Britain._

_Harry is progressing quite well in the meditative arts, actually. My personal theory is that he needs to have it explained to him thoroughly and in an unusual way to make it stick in his head. Harry is intelligent; but he's not used to using or showing it. I blame his family. He's learning many things in the magical arts; runes, potions, defense and offence, dark magic, black magic, and many other branches not taught at Hogwarts. He's not diving deeply into them, obviously, but he's learning the basics. I can only hope it will be enough._

_Keep me informed of Dumbledore's plans and the Aurors._

_RL_

* * *

_December 29__th__, 1996_

_Leave wherever you are now. The Aurors are coming._

* * *

_January 3__rd__, 1997_

_Severus,_

_We just managed to get away. Thank Merlin your letter came in time. We're in a new place now, under new names. Hopefully, that will throw off our trackers for a while. Thank you for the rescue._

_RL_

* * *

_January 29__th__, 1997_

_Lupin,_

_It wasn't a rescue. It was me making sure two idiotic Gryffindors don't get killed before one of them can save us all._

_Potter must have new tutors. I assume you abandoned your old ones along with your old home, correct? Get them as soon as possible. The more he learns, the sooner he can come back._

_SS_

* * *

_April 2__nd__, 1997_

_Severus,_

_Harry and I have been busy with training, so I haven't been able to write. He's learned many things now; his magical trainer is much better than his old one._

_Harry's also progressed well in martial and meditative arts – his teacher believes him to be decent in martial arts and a superb student in the mental arts. We're both glad for the lack of nightmares._

_RL_

* * *

_May 19__th__, 1997_

_Lupin,_

_Another attack, this time on Hogwarts. Many students have died. __Don't tell Potter__. He will rush back when he hears that the school has been attacked, and that is exactly what The Dark Lord wants him to do. Keep him wherever you are now._

_SS_

* * *

_June 18__th__, 1997_

_Severus,_

_Harry found out, through a slip of my tongue. I apologize. I managed to argue him from coming back to Britain (again), but he seems more determined than last time. I'll keep my eye on him._

_RL_

* * *

_July 1__st__, 1997_

_Lupin,_

_Keep an eye on Potter. He gets into trouble easily. The Aurors are narrowing down your position to Japan. If that's where you are, I suggest making plans for a move._

_SS_

* * *

_July 31__st__, 1997_

_Severus,_

_Harry's birthday is today. He doesn't seem happy about it._

_We're going to a new place at the end of August. I've signed Harry up for school under a fake name. If you have a way of talking where you know we can't be intercepted, I'd appreciate you owling me back, detailing such a way. I want you to know where we are._

_RL_

* * *

_August 6__th__, 1997_

_Lupin,_

_Build a floo wherever you stay and ward it so only I can use it. It's illegal, of course, but when has that ever stopped a Marauder?_

_SS_

* * *

_August 16__th__, 1997_

_Severus,_

_I'll do it when we arrive. Expect a floo call in the beginning of September._

_RL_

* * *

_September 1__st__, 1997; Daily Prophet, Front Page News_

_POTTER STILL MISSING_

_Mr. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has been missing for a full year. Many speculations have been brought up on where he has gone, but nothing final has been said about it. However, this reporter finally managed to talk with the person very involved with the Potter retrieval case; Albus Dumbledore._

_Headmaster Dumbledore said this about the missing Potter, "Harry has not been kidnapped. However, he is travelling. My guess is that he wanted to learn. What knowledge he wanted is known only to Mr. Potter."_

_Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School, agreed with the Headmaster. "Harry Potter has not been kidnapped by Dark Forces; we are sure of that. Wherever he is, he's there of his own free will. But I have no doubt Mr. Potter will come back. He is not the type to leave his friends and family in danger." _

_We can only hope Professor McGonagall's prediction is true, for without a Savior how can we hope to survive?_

_By: Reel Mariata_


	4. Chapter Two: Forks

**Author's Note:** Holy shit, I think this is the most reviews I've ever gotten for the first chapters of a story. Thanks so much guys!

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter Two: Forks**

No one can tell what goes on between the person you were and the person you become. (The Stand by Stephen King)

"Yes, well, things are not always as they appear sir, and we must learn to judge for ourselves." (The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray)

Is life not a hundred times too short for us to stifle ourselves? (Friedrich Nietzsche)

And when your head changed, he was finding out, it changed forever. (The Stand by Stephen King)

* * *

**ONE YEAR LATER**

**Forks, Washington  
****September 3****rd****, 1997** **(1)**

Harry's first impression of Forks was that it was very, very green and very, very rainy.

In fact, despite the thick, green forest surrounding the tiny town, it felt very much like England. Maybe that was why Harry felt more comfortable here than he had at every other city they'd stopped at. And, man, had they stopped at a _lot_ of towns!

They had, as Remus had suggested, gone to Bill's place in Cairo for a few weeks. Bill's attitude had been a complete surprise to Harry – he'd known that the man was a bit rebellious, but not to the point where he wouldn't follow Dumbledore at all. Bill's pledge to follow Harry, especially with a loyal glint in his eye, had the small arcàngelo even more flabbergasted. Fleur had agreed with her husband wholeheartedly. She had said, "Dumbledoor did not save me sister," and left it at that.

They'd traveled through the Middle East after that, hitting the cities of Jerusalem, Teru Amin, Medina, Baghdad, Tehran, Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Amman, and every town in-between. It'd been half-way through their journey in the Middle East that'd they'd received the first letter from Severus Snape, warning them of the Aurors and Order Members on their trail. They'd created a whirlwind of travel for them to follow and disappeared quietly to Africa. They'd laid low in Morocco for a while before travelling southwards, through Chad, Congo, Zambia, Botswana, and South Africa. They'd spent most of their time in South Africa, enjoying a month of freedom before being forced to move on by the perusal of the Aurors.

After Africa, they'd gone to Asia, trying to put an ocean between their followers and them. They'd spent a lot of time in China, South Korea, Vietnam, Mongolia, eastern Russia, and Thailand. But Harry's favorite time had been the seven months they'd managed to spend in Japan – his favorite country out of the bunch, and also home of the only other language he'd been able to become fluent in besides English. The time spent in Japan had been wonderful; Harry hadn't wanted to leave when the Remus had told him that the wizards were picking up their trail again. But they had no choice; Harry wasn't ready to go back yet, and if they stayed any longer they would be found.

So, they'd come to America. Remus had bought a house in the woods of Forks under a false name; Faolan Moon. Remus had joked that he might as well pick an appropriate fake name; Faolan was an Irish name for wolf, and Moon was an abbreviated name for Moony. Harry had decided to keep his first name and take Remus' last name; there were enough Harry's in the world to make him less suspicious. They'd decided that travelling as father and son would also work to make them seem less suspicious. If anyone asked about Harry's look, they could say they came from his mother.

Harry's looks had changed little in the last year, except for a few adjustments. One was the tattoo on his face. Arrian had told him when they'd first met that he would have the choice of what tattoo to put on his face after his seventeenth birthday, and Harry had thought about it for a long time before he'd decided. A black sun sat on his left cheek, while the other held a brilliant green, six pointed star. The star held tiny pictures at each of its tips, although you had to be up close to be able to see it; a stag, a wolf, a grim, a badger, a cardinal, and a raven. They represented a special person to him; James (the stag), Remus (the wolf), Sirius (the grim), Cedric (the badger), Lily (the cardinal), and Severus Snape (the raven), whom Harry had become strangely fond of when Remus had told him of the letters and the way that he'd helped Harry escape. Harry had been pleased with his choices, although his star tattoo had taken a month and a half to finish, and had hurt like hell the entire time.

Harry had also decided to get his ears pierced; not out of teenage rebellion, but to commemorate Sirius. Remus had told Harry that Sirius had had earrings up and down his left ear, and a single one in his right when they were younger; the holes had closed up while he had been in Azkaban, however. Harry had been wary about getting so many piercings, but determined to do at least some. He'd pierced both of his ears, and had three put in the top of his left ear and four more along the edge of his ear. In them, he usually kept simple platinum loops (no silver, for Remus' sake); while in his lobe he kept pendants or dangly chains. It was a look that had garnered many admiring looks from both genders and many wary looks from elderly people during their travels. Harry had been amused by both.

Other than that, the only other changes for him had been in his style. Harry had never really cared about his clothes, but now that he had money (thanks to Sirius' will), he found that he didn't really mind buying a new wardrobe for both himself and Remus. They had clothes from practically every country they'd visited; plenty of traditional and modern African clothes, lots of light, cool robes from the Middle East, beautiful clothes from all over Asia and plenty of modern and traditional clothes from Japan. Harry was pleased with his collection; he liked have the unique clothes that he did.

Remus had also changed in the past year. Where before he had been a worn, washed-out man, now he was alive; his hair slightly longer and the lines on his face softening slightly. His amber eyes were more alive, and in his new clothes he looked fitter and younger. He'd also had his ear pierced, but only with a simple one in his right ear.

"Harry – there's the school!" Remus said, drawing Harry out of his reminiscence of the past year.

Harry looked out the window to see a squat, gray building that had a very disgruntled air to it, as if it didn't appreciate being dumped among the numerous trees in the middle of the pouring rain. Dozens of cars sat out in the parking lot, and several students were milling outside, staying under ledges or having the hoods of their jackets up.

"It looks . . . nice," Harry offered hesitantly. He'd never been in a high school before, but even he knew that this building was not the most comforting around.

Remus had insisted that Harry attend in his last year so he could graduate. Under a different name, with a different face, they both hoped that they would slip by their trackers. Besides, Harry wanted to stay in the Muggle world for a while longer, and he thought he might as well get a high school degree.

Harry had gotten up to date on all the Muggle schooling that he'd missed at Hogwarts during their years of travel. He'd picked up second-hand textbooks and studied them, and had attended a few classes in Japan. But that had come to an end fast. Harry scowled to himself. Even with his individual studies, he hadn't been able to keep up with the Japanese classes. _'Stupid accelerated classes,'_ he grumbled silently.

"The house is just up here," Remus murmured as they took a turn and started on a gravel path into the wilderness. Remus had bought the house online, under his fake name, and he planned to put the Fidelius over it with Harry as their secret-keeper. It was the most efficient way to keep people away from them . . . especially those of a magical kind. Remus was hoping that their magic would be unnoticed by any American wizards nearby; there weren't enough wizards in this part of Washington to do a lot of magic without notice.

They pulled up to a trim looking dark blue house with wide windows and a flat roof. Harry smiled when he saw that; he knew that they were there especially for him. He hated small, dark spaces, not only because of his history with the Dursleys but because, as an arcàngelo he hated to be confined. The windows helped him a lot in that respect. The roof would be a perfect taking off and landing space, and a place to retreat when he needed to. Remus always tried to get a house with wide windows and a flat roof, and Harry appreciated how his guardian always looked out for his comfort.

"It looks nice," Harry said quietly. Remus smiled at him.

"We're lucky too," he said. "The old owner – I believe his last name was Swann or something like that – just moved out a couple of months ago, and the price was very cheap."

Harry nodded as their car rolled to a halt. Usually, they wouldn't both travelling the muggle way, but they'd wanted to keep the Aurors off-guard, so they'd decided to use a plane to get to America and to buy a car when they got there. Remus had also mentioned getting a car for Harry as well, once they settled in a bit.

Harry got out of the car and jumped when he felt light drizzle fall on his head. He looked up, squinting to keep the rain out of his eyes, and blinked when he realized that the clouds looked darker than before. Forks would probably be under perpetual rain for the next week or so.

"I like this place," Harry said. Harry liked sunlight, but he'd always been more partial to rainy weather, even during his days with the Dursley family.

Remus grinned at him, and his eyes shone golden for a moment. During their travels, Remus had become more in tune with himself and his inner werewolf. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Moony so relaxed, and that made him happy as well.

"Let's go inside!" Remus said, raising his voice to make sure he was heard. The wind was picking up, and the rain was splattering hard against the ground.

Harry nodded and they both raced up to the front door. Remus produced a key out of the front pocket of his dark green sweater and carefully inserted it into the oaken door. The door swung open with a slight creak to reveal their new home.

It was a nice place; nicer than most of the other houses they'd stayed at, except for their apartment in Japan (in Harry's loyal opinion). There was still furniture left over from the last person's stay, and Harry got the impression that whoever the last owner had been, he'd lived here alone. There wasn't any sort of feminine style to the place that suggested he'd lived with a wife or girlfriend. Harry explored the entire first floor (a kitchen, a living room, and a tiny space that could be used for an office) before he decided to head upstairs. The stairs were creaky in certain places – the 3rd stair up on the right side, the 10th stair up in the middle, and so on – and Harry took careful note of that so he could avoid it at a later date. He knew Remus was a light sleeper, and he wouldn't want to wake him when he went to school or if he managed to somehow become social and wanted to sneak out for a party. Harry snorted. He doubted _that_ would ever happen.

Upstairs, there were two rooms on a long corridor. Both of them had tiny bathrooms inside, and two larger closets. Harry decided to take the second bedroom as his own – it had two large windows on two of the joint walls; one overlooked the forest behind their house, and the other the driveway that lead to their house. Harry nodded and placed his knapsack on the bed. This would be the best bedroom for him. Remus' also had a window overlooking the "backyard", and since the werewolf wasn't as obsessed with open space as Harry was, he wouldn't mind about losing another window.

Their beds were plain and old; simple single mattresses on an old, metal frame. Harry frowned slightly; they'd have to get those replaced. Both he and Remus liked their comfort, even if the old owner hadn't. Though he did wonder why the man had had an extra bedroom; perhaps he had a sibling or a son. The room was too plain for a daughter, in Harry's opinion.

"Remus!" Harry cried. "We'll have to go shopping today!"

Remus gave a bark of laughter from the hallway and Harry smiled. It was a little known fact that Remus Lupin did, in fact, love to shop. Harry was the complete opposite – the type to get what he needed and then get out as fast as possible – but Remus could spend hours finding what he wanted and then some. Harry thought it was a good thing that his Gringotts money could be transferred into muggle money and that they'd had the time to go to Gringotts before they left the country. The goblins had been very helpful in keeping everyone out of Harry's vaults except for Harry and Remus, and had given them a sort of "money-purse" that allowed them to withdraw by placing their hand inside and thinking of the amount they wanted, and whether it should be in gold or muggle money. Harry had never known such a thing existed (in fact, it seemed eerily coincidental that the goblins should have one just lying around) but he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, and the goblins had been helpful to them, so he found no reason to doubt them. Besides, the bag worked, and it was extremely helpful when they were in the middle of nowhere and couldn't find a bank within 50 miles.

Remus hurried into Harry's room. "We'll definitely have to go shopping," he said with a gleam in his eye. "We do need a little more furniture than a table and couch, and some nicer beds would be good as well. We need a shower curtain, too, and definitely some new covers and pillows . . . ."

Harry laughed and felt like he was home.

* * *

Early morning in Forks was cool and wet, reminding Harry of the time he and Remus had spent briefly in Hokkaido and Russia. He took a deep breath as he stretched in his bed, looking out of his open window. The sun was barely rising behind the trees; Harry could see the beginnings of a pink dawn. He smiled; he'd woken up just at the right time. Internal clocks were a wonderful thing.

Lightly, Harry sprung out of his bed and hurried to the window, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. They were thick and warm, made to battle Harry's weakness to cold weather. Harry hadn't known why he suddenly was so vulnerable to cold until Arrian had explained that it was an affliction all arcàngelo suffered. Harry had also been made aware of their magical and physical weakness during the night of the complete full moon, and had experienced that night many times since his rinascita.

Harry silently willed out his wings and silently they came out, ripping fabric as they went. Harry was lucky for magic; had he been wearing a normal shirt, he would have never been able to wear it again because of the tears. As it was, he'd managed to get all of his shirts and jackets specially designed to re-knit themselves around his wings. It was a terribly useful spell, and Harry felt extremely grateful to whoever had created it. Otherwise, he would have been out of shirts a long time ago.

Harry spread his wings, rolling his shoulders as he did so. The little "pocket" they inhabited when they weren't out was extremely useful, but it also had the unfortunate habit of making his wing and back muscles cramp up if used too long. Harry sighed with relief as his muscles loosened and then, with a grin, threw himself out of the window.

Air rushed past his head before Harry snapped his wings out, catching onto a slight wind to get him back on his feet, so to speak. Then his wings gave a powerful beat, launching Harry into the air. Harry kept climbing upwards until he was above the house and then gently glided down onto the flat roof.

The floor underneath his feet was cool and wet, but Harry didn't let it bother him. Instead, he sank down to the floorboards, sitting cross-legged on the cold ground. Resting his elbows against his knees, Harry tilted his head forward and took a deep breath.

He'd learned the finer points of meditating first in China and then in Japan. It was something he'd never done before, not even with Occlumency . . . and Harry found that he quite liked it. There was something soothing about emptying your mind and leaving all of your thoughts and worldly troubles behind you.

Harry didn't know low long he sat there, languidly emptying his mind and keeping away from all his worldly troubles, but eventually he came back to himself. He found that he was cold and shivering; a bad combination for an arcàngelo could die if he got too cold. Hurriedly Harry rose to his feet. He'd planned on doing his _kata_ **(2)** this morning as well, but he supposed he'd better get inside. Maybe he could do it in the living room; that looked big enough.

He hurried in through his still open window and tore off his clothes. Naked, except for his boxers, he hurried into the bathroom, where two soft, plush towels waited for him. Grabbing one, he rubbed it over his body, warming up his skin. Sighing with relief, Harry left the bathroom and dumped the towel on his new bed. He smiled down at it for a minute; it was a king-size and barely fit in his room, causing Remus to use a little bit of magic to enlarge both Harry's and his own room. It was very plush and there were three blankets piled on top it, which was helpful during cold nights. Harry turned away from his bed and hurried to the closet. Inside, his clothes hung neatly, though Harry knew that soon they would be messy and haphazard. Harry had never really been one for neatness.

He pulled out a warm, black turtleneck and jeans and pulled them on over his rapidly warming body. Sighing in relief as dry clothes hit his skin; Harry flipped his hair away from his body and went to retrieve his towel once more. Vigorously, he dried off the long locks, making them even curlier and messy than they had been before. Smiling in amusement at his disobedient hair, Harry threw the towel into his laundry bin and went downstairs.

Remus was, actually, a pretty good cook. He wasn't up to Mrs. Weasley's abilities, but his dishes were mouth-watering all the same. So when Harry came downstairs to find Remus cooking in the kitchen, he wasn't that surprised. The only thing that confused him was where all the food had come from.

"Remus?" he said, and the werewolf turned to face him with a smile.

"Good morning, Harry!" he cried, waving a spatula in his hand. Harry watched him with bemusement.

"Where did you get all the food? We didn't go to the grocery store yesterday . . . ."

"I dropped by this morning," Remus said, turning back so he could tend to the eggs in front of him. "I woke up early, so I thought I might as well do something useful."

"Oh," Harry said and dropped into a chair.

"By the way, Harry, I think I might have found you a car," Remus turned and handed over a newspaper to Harry; _Forks Gazette_. It was turned to a page with used cars for sale plastered all over it. One particular entry had been circled. It was for a large red Chevy that, according to the ad, was an old model but ran great and had low mileage. "It'll blend in perfectly," Remus continued with a smile. "And the people that we'll buy it from . . . ." Remus paused, and Harry frowned. "Well, let's just say that I know who they are."

"Remus?" Harry questioned, feeling uneasy about his guardian's tone. But Remus shook his head and turned to give Harry a smile.

"Don't worry about it now, Harry. But what do you think of the truck?"

"I think it's perfect," Harry declared. He wasn't picky about the type of car he had, and if the truck ran well then he was all set. "Should we go up and get it today?" _'So I can see these mysterious people that you know?'_ he added silently. Remus grinned at him, probably knowing where Harry's thoughts were heading.

"Sure. You'll need that new car for tomorrow."

Harry groaned. He didn't want to think about starting school tomorrow.

* * *

La Push was absolutely beautiful. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the rocky coast, and the beautiful ocean.

"Come on, Harry," Remus said with a laugh, understanding his Cub's fascination. "Billy said for us to meet him at the main house."

The Quileute tribe lived in an arrangement of houses colored a bright, eye-catching red. Harry quite liked them, actually. The main house was the largest building of the lot, centered in the middle of the rest of the sprawl. Harry was surprised when they didn't run into anyone on their way there; it seemed like the "village" was empty. He frowned.

Remus led Harry up the steps and into the large house. "Billy said he'd be in the main hall."

They took a couple of wrong turns, but eventually managed to find their way into a huge room with wooden floors. Bright clothes and paintings covered the walls, and in the corner was a large, lit fireplace. Chairs and couches littered the floor.

Near one of the tables, there was a man. He was heavyset, with thick black hair and dark eyes, and he sat in a wheelchair.

"Billy!" Remus cried, and the man turned. He smiled slightly, but Harry thought that the look didn't suit his face, which looked much more used to frowning. "It's nice to see you again." Harry gave Remus a sharp glance, but Remus didn't look at him.

"Nice to see you too, Remus," Billy said and Harry felt alarmed that the old man knew his guardian's real name. Billy's eyes turned to him. "And you must be Harry, the one who wants to buy my truck."

Harry frowned. "Yes, that would be me," he said firmly. Then he turned to Remus. "How does he know your name? Why have you told him? What the hell is going on here?"

"Be calm, Cub," Remus said, ignoring the raised eyebrow Billy gave him for the affectionate nickname. "I've been friends with Billy and this tribe for a long time. They know me well, so I couldn't lie to them."

"Why do you know them so well, Remus?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing. Remus sighed.

"Harry, you know about shapeshifters, right?" Harry nodded. They'd met a few shapeshifters during their time in Russia and again in Vietnam. "Well, in this tribe, there are some who can shapeshift into wolves."

Harry gaped. "Wolves! Are they like you, then?"

"No, their change isn't dictated by the moon," Remus said, a little sadly. "They aren't a true werewolf."

Harry was silent for a moment, contemplating this information. "I see. Do they know what I am as well?" He ignored the sharp look Billy threw him.

"No," Remus said. "I wouldn't betray your trust like that, Harry."

Harry sighed and turned to Billy. "Where's the truck?" he asked, changing the subject entirely.

Billy raised an eyebrow. "No questions about us? I would've thought you'd be curious."

"If you want to tell me, you're welcome to," Harry said. "But I don't need to know, so I won't pry." Billy nodded.

"The truck's outside. My son is giving it some finishing touches." Billy expertly wheeled himself out of the room, leading Remus and Harry down a series of halls until they found themselves outside. In front of them was a huge red truck, dented and obviously worn but looking no worse for wear than that. Harry smiled; he liked it. In front of the truck stood a tall, black-haired teenager who jumped up as soon as he saw them coming. He approached them with a friendly smile on his face.

"You must be Remus and Harry," he said. "My father's talked a lot about you. I'm Jacob."

"Nice to meet you," Remus said calmly. Harry shifted awkwardly on his feet, catching Jacob's attention.

"You're the one who wants to look at the truck right?" Jacob said, his eyes lighting up enthusiastically. "C'mon, follow me! I'll show you everything." He took Harry by the elbow and steered him towards the truck. Harry couldn't stop the small flinch from the unexpected contact.

"She's an old gal," Jacob said, patting the side of the truck fondly, "but she's aged well. She has a lot of mileage on her – before the wheelchair, Dad like to walk more than he liked to drive – and her engine is still good. She's got a few dents here and there but nothing that will stop her from running. As long as you don't go over eighty on a daily basis and feed her, then I'm sure she'll be fine in your hands." He turned to see Harry looking at him in amusement. Awkwardly, Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. "What?"

"You talk about the car as if you're giving me a new pet," Harry told him in amusement. Jacob laughed.

"I really like cars," he said.

"I didn't notice," Harry teased with a smile. Jacob grinned back at him. "How old is the car anyways?"

Jacob shifted a little nervously. "Well Dad bought it in 1984 . . . ."

"Yes?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"But it probably hasn't been new since the fifties," Jacob blurted out. "But it's still a good car! It runs well, and I've fixed up the engine so much that it could have been made last year and—"

"Don't worry Jacob, I'm going to take the truck," Harry assured him with amusement in his eyes. Jacob sighed in relief.

"Thank God. Dad would've never forgiven me if I had lost him the sale."

"I already planned to take in the moment I saw the ad." Harry patted the side of the truck fondly. "I'm sure I'll it to good use."

"Good!" Jacob said and beamed.

"Jacob, how old are you?" Harry asked, realizing that he had to tilt his head up to look the teenager in the eye. "And how _tall_ are you?" he added.

"I'm 15," he said sheepishly. "And I'm only around 5'8" – not that tall at all!" **(3) **He smirked. "It's just because you're so short!"

Harry glared at him. "Did you just call me _short_?" he hissed out.

Jacob swallowed nervously, but was brave enough to say, "Yes . . . .?"

"You'd better run, Jacob," Harry said calmly and then smirked. Jacob shivered; it was a _very_ scary smirk. "When I get finished with you, you'll never call me short again." He started towards Jacob with a creepy look on his face, and Jacob yelped and started to run away, towards Billy and Remus.

"Dad!" he cried. "He's going to kill me!" Billy stared at his son in bemusement. Jacob slid to a halt in front of him and whimpered a little. "I didn't know he'd find the word short so offensive!" he said in his defense, making Remus burst into laughter.

"Oh _Jaaaacob_~!"

"Eek!" Jacob squeaked and ran away. Harry came up to Billy and Remus with a grin on his face. Remus was laughing and Billy had a smile on his face.

"I think I'll be taking the truck, Mr. Black," he told Billy. "And tell your son that I'll find a way to run him over with it one of these days." His grin belied his words and Billy let out his first laugh since diabetes destroyed his legs. He had a feeling he'd like this Harry Potter.

* * *

_'I am not scared,'_ Harry told himself firmly. _'I'm just a little . . . apprehensive.'_

He sighed and stared at the high school building from the inside of his new truck. He really did like the vehicle; it ran as well as Jacob had promised and he felt comfortable in it.

Carefully, Harry swung his leather knapsack over one shoulder. The knapsack was worn and covered with stickers and pins, as it had covered most of Africa and all of Asia with Harry. He felt more comfortable when it was with him; after all they'd been through together. It was like having a piece of home with him. Carefully he slid out of his truck and onto the cold, wet ground. He ignored the rain drizzling down into his clothes and hair and hurried into the building.

Harry felt the stares as soon as he entered. He'd expected as much. He wasn't exactly dressed like everyone else. He wore one of the shirts he'd gotten in China that was made of a cool, silk-like material and colored a dark gray. It had a high Mandarin collar and was sleeveless. Over that he wore a long black overcoat that he'd bought in Japan that buttoned up in the front and had sleeves so long that they fell to the tips of Harry's fingers without him having to pull it down. The coat was made from thick wool, and Harry had been grateful for it this morning when the cold had hit him in a blast as he went to his car. His pants were simple black jeans, and he had black sneakers (once again, from Japan) on his feet.

But he knew it wasn't so much his clothes as his earrings and his hair that would attract attention. Harry usually kept his hair tied back in a ponytail or even a braid if it was being really annoying, and that exposed his pierced ears for the world to see (he was happy that he had choppy bangs to cover his forehead and keep his scar from view). Harry, personally, didn't see what was so fascinating about them; he had plain black hoops in his multiple piercings, a simple dark blue stud in his left ear, and a dangling sliver chain with a simple ball pendent at the end of it in his right ear. To him, that was modest. But he supposed to a small town he looked out of place.

Harry tried to ignore the eyes on his back as he made his way to the Main Office. Inside, thankfully, there was no one except for a prim looking woman sitting behind the front desk. He approached it cautiously and she looked up as he came near. Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance, but she said nothing about it, for which he was thankful.

"My name is Harry Moon," he said quietly. "I'm new here."

"Yes," the woman said and collected some papers from her desk, placing them in front of Harry. "This is your schedule, which your father arranged with your consoler during the summer, a map of the school, and papers that your teachers will need to sign to tell me you've gotten up to date on the few days you've missed so far. You're lucky to have arrived so early in the school year, Mr. Moon."

Harry smiled. "I think so too, ma'am," he said, and noticed how she relaxed slightly at his politeness.

"Please bring the slip back today after school," she said and handed him the papers. "Do you need me to show you where your classes are, or do you think you can manage on your own?"

"I think I'll do fine, ma'am. Thank you though." Then Harry turned and left papers under my arm. He let out a long breath as he came to the doors of the building, still ignoring the students who were intently boring a hole into his back. That had gone well. Now he just needed to find his classes.

Harry looked down and saw that his first class was with a man called Mr. Mason, and in building three. Harry looked around, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the rain, and straightened when he saw the building was a little ways ahead. He hurried towards it, ignoring the other students still, and slipped into the warmth.

The classroom was small, with a long line of hooks to hang up coats just inside the door. Harry ignored that; he liked his jacket and it wasn't warm enough inside to have to take it off. Besides, he knew he'd get more looks if he revealed his more exotic looking shirt, and Harry didn't want the attention right now.

He went up to the teacher – a tall, balding man – and handed him the signing slip the front desk lady had given him. The man – Mr. Mason, by his nameplate – gawked at Harry for several moments before finally taking the sheet and scribbling a signature in the corner. He then pointed to a seat for Harry to take in the back, which the arcàngelo sank into thankfully. Now, at least, it would take a lot more effort for the students to stare at him without being noticeable.

He knew that they wouldn't stop staring. He didn't look like them. Other than the glamours over his tattoos, Harry had altered nothing about himself. His features were still sharply beautiful, and his eyes still had a bit of a cat-like tilt to them. He didn't look like the rest of these teenagers, and they knew it too. For them, it would just be that he was born lucky with good genes.

Harry sighed, slumping in his seat. He'd thought about changing his appearance completely, to go further undercover as Harry Moon, but he'd rejected that idea almost immediately. Not only because the glamour necessary for that would drain him, but also because the idea of wearing someone else's face and pretending to be someone else appalled him. He'd done that for his entire Hogwarts career, and he wasn't eager to do it again. No, even if it got them noticed, Harry refused to change himself.

He sighed. He supposed he'd only brought the attention onto himself. He looked down at the reading list Mason had given him; Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. Harry had read most of that already. He'd discovered that he liked reading, when he didn't have Hermione to do it for him. Muggle fiction had become one of his favorite genres, along with science fiction. It was amazing how close muggles had come to describing the wizarding world and all the creatures in it.

Harry didn't pay attention what the teacher was talking about, instead choosing to drift off. Thus, when the bell rang – a nasal, shrill sound – he was startled and jumped. Thankfully his action was either usual for students or had went unnoticed (which Harry doubted) for no one snickered at his lack of attention. Harry sighed and collected his knapsack. He had been about to stand when a boy with a bad skin condition and slick black hair approached him.

"You're Harry Moon, right?" he asked, very friendly-like. Harry was reminded of an over-eager puppy.

"Yes," Harry responded cautiously. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at him.

"What's your next class?"

Harry looked down at the sheet in his hand. "Government with Jefferson, in Building Six," he said, absently trying to figure out where Building Six would be.

"I'm heading to Building Four, so I could help you find it . . . ." the boy seemed overly hopeful. "I'm Eric, by the way."

Harry sighed. "Sure, why not," he said, trying to summon up a smile. Eric seemed nice, even if he was reminding Harry rather forcefully of a puppy dog.

They travelled in silence for a few moments before Eric decided to strike up a conversation. "Where do you come from, by the way? I haven't heard your accent before."

"I'm originally from England," Harry told him. "But my father is a writer and he decided a year back that he wanted to learn about different cultures for a book he's writing, so we've been travelling quite a bit for the last several months. We only decided to settle in Forks because dad's friends with some people around here."

"Wow," Eric said. "Must be boring living here after travelling the world." He gave Harry an admiring look.

"I've learned to appreciate boring," Harry said with a wry smile, thinking of all the Aurors Remus and he had had to escape over the last year. "Besides, I like Forks. It's very beautiful."

Eric seemed to doubt that anyone could like Forks. "If you say so," he said. "Me, I want to graduate and go somewhere sunny."

Harry laughed. "I can understand that. In England, the weather is the same as here, but I like the rain. It's soothing."

Eric shrugged. He led Harry straight to the door of Building Six, even though it was clearly marked and smiled as Harry started inside. "Maybe I'll see you later," he suggested. "We might have some classes together." He sounded hopeful of that. Harry gave him a smile and a nod and disappeared inside.

The rest of the morning progressed pretty much in the same fashion. In every class there was always someone willing to come up and say hello and help Harry to his next class. He'd also started to recognize several people that were in his classes; one girl, two inches shorter than me with a heedful of curly hair that reminded Harry of Hermione, bravely asked him if he wanted to have lunch with her friends. Since Harry didn't really want to eat by himself, he agreed. She chattered on the way there, while Harry desperately tried to remember her name.

The lunch table they sat at was full of the girl's friends, including Eric, who waved wildly at Harry. Harry smiled in return and gave his attention to his food. He sighed when he saw how disgusting it looked. He'd have to ask Remus to make something for him from now on.

Then he looked up from his food and saw _them_.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, but Harry could see them easily, thanks to his advanced vision. They were five of them, and they weren't talking or eating, despite the plates of untouched food in front of them (Harry, personally, couldn't blame them. The food _was_ vile). They were all beautiful – exceptionally so.

There were three guys; one was muscled like a serious weight-lifted, with dark, curly hair and one, his complete opposite, had honey blond hair and a thin, muscular build. The last was leaner and lanky, with untidy bronze hair. He looked younger than the others.

The two girls were opposites in every way. One was tall with a model-like body that made every girl take a hit on her self-esteem just be being in the same room as her. She had golden hair, gently waving down her back. The other was as short as Harry and pixie-like, with short, crazy hair, a thin dancer's body, and small features.

But, even with all these differences, they looked the same. They all had chalky pale skin, and dark eyes, no matter what color their hair was. They all had bruises under their eyes, as if suffering from a sleepless night, and all of their features were completely perfect – almost _supernaturally_ perfect.

Harry's eyes widened at the thought. Humans weren't that beautiful; he knew it too well. And since he was aware that the supernatural existed, he was also aware that there was a possibility that those beautiful teenagers were actually human after all. He frowned, examining them. If he got closer, he could get a whiff of their scent and see if he could find out what they were. But that would have to wait.

He watched as the short girl gracefully took her lunch and threw it away. Every step she made was beautifully graceful, a dancer's glide. She made her way to the garbage and then back to her table more quickly than he would've thought she could've. Harry's eyes narrowed. _'Definitely not human.'_

"Who're they?" he said to the girl who'd invited him to the table to begin with. She turned, puzzled, and just as her face swung toward Harry, so did the youngest of the bunch at the table, the one with untidy bronze hair. His eyes, a dark color that could've been compared to Snape's onyx black, peered first at the girl (what _was_ her name?) and then at Harry. His eyes flickered with what could've been surprise before he turned away to continue staring at the wall. Harry frowned.

The girl next to him giggled. "That's Edward and Emmett Cullen and Jasper and Rosalie Hale. The other girl is Alice Cullen; they all live with Dr. Cullen and his wife."

Harry looked over at the boy – Edward, he assumed – and saw that his lips were moving, barely, and though none of his siblings looked at him Harry got the feeling they were listening to him.

"They're adopted then, I suppose," he said.

"Yes," the girl said, and Harry suddenly remembered that her name was Jessica. "The Hales are actually related, but they're foster children."

"That was nice of Mrs. Cullen, to take them in," Harry said, meaning it sincerely. He knew what it was like to be an unwanted orphan, and he was glad that there was a kind enough person to adopt five children. _'That is, if they are adopted,'_ a voice (that sounded suspiciously like Snape) said in the back of his mind. _'Remember your theory.'_

"Yes, I suppose," Jessica said, sounding reluctant. "But I heard Mrs. Cullen can't have kids." Harry stiffened.

"She must be a very kind woman, to take in five children," he said sharply. "That she would open her home to orphans means she must be a very loving woman indeed." Jessica blushed slightly.

He turned with a near-silent huff to see that Edward was staring at him again, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. Then he turned, though Harry could still see the slightly curved cheek that signified a smile or smirk.

"Have they always lived here?" Harry asked Jessica, willing to overlook her bigotry for a little more information on the mysterious Cullens. If they were creatures, he had to be sure that they wouldn't be harmful.

"They moved here two years ago, from Alaska or someplace like that," Jessica said dismissively.

"Hmm. The younger one, with the bronze hair, is he Edward Cullen?" Harry asked, although he felt that he already knew the answer.

Jessica nodded. "Yes. He's gorgeous, of course, but he doesn't date. Apparently, none of the girls here are good enough for him." She sniffed indignantly. Harry wondered when he'd turned her down.

He shook his head and got up to throw away his lunch, still pondering the mysterious Cullens. He knew they had to be some sort of creature; Edward Cullen had clearly heard his and Jessica's conversation. But what kind of creature? Chalky pale . . . . That could mean Veela or Vampire or Incubus. There were multiple creatures with pale skin. Harry frowned. He'd have to get close enough to one of them to get a scent. Maybe he had a class with one of them . . . .

He sighed and left the lunchroom when he heard the bell screeching above his head. He had Biology II next, with Mr. Banner. Another girl who'd been sitting at the lunch table and also had Biology with him led him to the room. She'd been considerate enough to remind him that her name was Angela.

The room was cold and chilly with large windows showing the rain coming down in sheets. Harry watched it for a moment, fascinated, before he turned his attention to the room itself. There were plenty of black-topped tables which reminded Harry of Snape's classroom, and all of the seats were taken except one by a certain bronze-haired boy.

Harry froze when he locked eyes with Edward Cullen again. The teenager's face, which had initially been open and amused, had closed off. His eyes were giving Harry a glare that could rival Snape's on a bad day. Harry frowned. In the lunchroom, Edward had been indifferent to him. Why would he hate him within the five minutes that they hadn't been in the same room together?

Harry handed his slip to Mr. Banner, who signed it and sent him to the seat next to Edward's. Harry noticed that with every step he took, Edward's body tensed further. Harry frowned, puzzled by the behavior. Maybe his creature was reacting badly to Harry's scent? After all, Harry was a creature as well.

Harry froze when he felt the first probe against his mind. He'd been just about to sit down when he felt it. When Mr. Banner cleared his throat and gave him a look, Harry hurriedly sat down, confused by the attempted invasion. He hadn't had attacks on his mind in a long time. He frowned, wondering who had enough magic or skill to do such a thing. Then he froze. There were some creatures that could do it. And the only creature in the room at the moment was . . . .

Harry turned to Edward Cullen with a dark glare. The teenager seemed stunned by it for a moment before returning with a glare just as dark. They stared at each other for several minutes before turning away.

The lecture was on cellular anatomy, something Harry had studied in Japan. Still, he took vigilant notes, trying to contain his fury at Edward Cullen. How dare he try and break into Harry's mind! What right did he have?!

The class passed by in a blur and before Harry realized it, the bell rang and Edward was out of his seat instantly. Harry watched him go with a dark look on his face. He'd be having a few _words_ with Edward Cullen today, no matter if he tried to run away.

"You're Harry Moon, right?" Harry turned to see a reasonably handsome blond boy with bright blue eyes staring at him. Harry nodded.

"I'm Mike."

"Nice to meet you, Mike," Harry said flatly, still to angry to be polite. Mike didn't seem to notice.

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"I have gym, actually," Harry told him. "I think I can find it."

"That's my next class too," Mike said with a smile. "I'll walk with you."

They headed out of the Biology classroom, down the hallway to the gym. Mike was a chattery person; he made up for most of the conversation that Harry didn't want to supply. He'd lived in California since he was 10, apparently, and was interested in where Harry had travelled. But as they were entering the gym, he said, "What'd you do to Edward Cullen, anyways? I don't think I've ever seen him run out of class that fast."

"I have no idea," Harry said. "I've never talked to him before."

"Well, I wouldn't have acted that way if you'd been sitting by me," he said with a smile. Harry blinked, wondering if Mike meant what he thought he meant by that.

Before he could ponder it to closely, the gym teacher was throwing him old clothes and ordering him to go change. Gym also flew by, though Harry tripped several times; in the air he was extremely graceful, but even as arcàngelo, he was a little clumsy on the ground. Thankfully it was just volleyball, so Harry could pretend he was playing while actually not playing. He was sure his teammates were thankful for it from the few times he had tried to help out.

By the time gym was done, Harry's anger at Edward Cullen had faded into irritation and curiosity. He pushed his way into the cold outside, still thinking about the mysterious teenager, and bit back a curse at how cold it had become during the day. He'd have to bring a jacket with him tomorrow.

He was halfway to his truck when he saw the person he'd been looking for. Hurrying after Edward, he managed to catch up with him.

"Edward! Edward Cullen!" Harry cried. The teenager stopped and turned, a dark look twisting his handsome features. At the glare, Harry felt his own anger returning. He stepped closer to the teenager, ignoring the way Edward clenched his fists and tried to lean backwards.

"I don't care what the fuck you are," Harry hissed angrily. "But you will never try and invade my mind again." Then he turned sharply away, hurrying towards his truck, his mind still full of rage. He climbed up into the driver's seat and took several deep breaths to calm himself. Only then did he realize exactly what he said to Edward Cullen.

"Oh _shit_."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Next chapter is Edward's reactions and more of Harry and Remus. Yey, they finally met each other! But Harry's got a bit of a temper, so Edward might have to beg to get forgiven. XD Please leave a review!

**(1)** I know that the dates don't match up with the books, but let's pretend Twilight happened about ten years in the past, alright?  
**(2)** Kata: Series of moves for taijutsu/karate. (As far as I know XD)  
**(3)** Jacob doesn't get abnormally tall until the middle to end of Twilight . . . Wikipedia says that he was around the height of Bella at the beginning of the book or something like that, and I listen to Wikipedia! XD But, don't worry, he'll be the freakish giant we all know and love in good time.

**A Note on the Cities:** Some of you may or may not know where the cities/countries Harry and Remus visited are. The list of cities I named in the Middle East are either capitals or large cities of Jordan, Israel, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran, and the United Arabian Emissaries. The African countries I mentioned exist in the central and southern part of Africa mostly, and the Asian countries are mostly in very eastern Asia. Hopefully that will help you if you want to actually see where the countries/cities are.


	5. Chapter Three: Edward and Severus

**Author's Note:** With every chapter I post I feel more and more popular. XD Thanks for all the reviews guys.

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter Three: Edward and Severus**

"All right," said Spiff. "Now this is what I say, anyone who thinks they've got a better plan can say so afterwards." (Michael de Larrabeiti, _The Borribles Go for Broke_)

How much darkness could children bear before darkness became a part of them forever? (Inkdeath by Cornelia Funke)

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. (Jane Howard)

In overcoming prejudice, working together is even more effective than talking together. (Ralph W. Sockman)

* * *

**Forks, Washington  
****September 5****th****, 1997**

"Harry! Get down here!"

Harry shot up from his comfortable position on his new bed when he heard Remus' hassled yell. He hurriedly adjusted his clothes and ran a hand through his hair before heading downstairs at a near run. Remus was never really one to yell, so whatever had him in a fit had to be important.

"Remus?" he asked, panting a bit. The werewolf was standing by their fireplace, staring into the flames. Instead of answering Harry, he handed him a slip of the thick parchment that was used by most members of the wizarding world, a type of paper that Harry hadn't seen for quite a while.

_Expect me at 6:31 on the 5__th__._

There wasn't a signature, but Harry had seen that thin, spiky handwriting often enough on his failed attempts at Potions essays that he knew who it was from.

"Snape is coming here in—" he checked the clock, "—3 minutes?"

"Yes," Remus said. "We agreed to making a Floo and keying it to his magical signature during our last letters . . . . I also told him that he could visit with news at his earliest convenience."

"News about what?" Harry sank down into the couch in front of the fire, note still crumpled in his hand. His head was still reeling from the news that Snape – _Snape_, of all people – was coming to visit. He did respect the man immensely, but it was still a shock to know that Snape, the king of anti-social, would be paying a house visit.

"About the war," Remus told him calmly. Harry's eyes widened and Remus sighed. "It's been a year since we've had any real news about it, Harry. We'll need to know eventually, and Severus is the best person to provide us with that news. Plus, he can tell you have your friends are doing."

"Yes, I know. I do want to know how everyone is doing," Harry said, running a hand over his face. "Plus I want to thank him for letting us get away that night . . . . and for everything else he's done to help us."

Remus smiled warmly. "Though I doubt he'll accept your thanks."

Harry looked up with a grin. "No, I doubt he will." He leaned back into the couch with a sigh. "So! Snape." Harry watched Remus' face closely. "No doubt he'll come and leave as quickly as possible?"

Remus shuffled to one side awkwardly. "Well, you see . . . ."

Harry frowned, leaning forward again, intrigued and slightly alarmed by Remus' sheepish expression. "Remus?" he questioned.

"I said that he could stay a night when I sent him our Floo address," Remus blurted out. "But I doubt he'll take me up on that," he added hastily, seeing Harry's shocked face. The surprise quickly morphed into a grin.

"So that's why you fixed up that little room downstairs!" he said. The grin became mischievous. "Is there any reason you invited him to stay the night, Remus?"

The poor werewolf looked quite flummoxed. But, thanks to the flash of green in the fireplace that signified the beginning of a Floo entry, he was saved from answering. Remus quickly moved away from the fire, but Harry remained where he was, eyeing the fireplace warily. He was glad to be rid of Floo travel; he very much hated the practice. Apparating wasn't much better, from Harry's angle. In fact all modes of wizarding transportation seemed quite needlessly dirty, messy, or painful.

But, of course, Severus Snape would never stumble out of a fireplace. Instead he _glided_ smoothly out, making Harry feel a little envious. There had to be some trick to being so elegant when using Floo travel.

Harry stood when Snape was fully in the room, surveying everything with quick black eyes. "Hello, Professor," he said warmly. Snape's eyes widened slightly, but Harry couldn't be sure if it was from his surpringly polite tone or his glamour-less looks.

"Potter," he said neutrally. Harry supposed it was the best he could hope from the man, after all their years of hatred.

"Severus," Remus stepped forward and clasped Snape's shoulder warmly. Snape jerked away from his touch with a glare a touch colder than it had been, but Remus' smile never dropped. Harry wished he had his guardian's good humor. "It's good to see you again."

"Though for me it is the exact opposite," Snape said in his distinctive drawl and Harry found himself hiding a smile. Snape was nasty sometimes, yes, but his endless sarcasm and snide remarks could also be quite amusing.

"Would you like to sit, Professor?" Harry asked politely, taking on the role as the host of the house. "Maybe you'd like some tea? Coffee?"

Snape sank into a nearby armchair and barked out, "Coffee," as if he were the man of the house and Harry just his mindless servant. Harry shook his head and made his way into the kitchen. Snape was Snape, after all.

Their pot of coffee from that morning was still good, so Harry poured a cup from that. He paused over it, frowning. He didn't know how Snape liked his coffee. He couldn't imagine such an acerbic man preferring anything other than just black, but you never knew when it came to people and coffee. He'd been quite surprised to find that Remus preferred his coffee black when Harry would have sworn beforehand that his guardian would put as much cream and sugar as he could manage into his cup. Harry peeked his head out the door and smiled when he saw Remus talking while Snape stared into the fire. The only sign that the black-haired man was listening was the occasional tilt of his head.

"Professor?" Harry called out, and Snape's head swung up immediately. "How do you like your coffee?"

"Two sugars and three creams," Snape answered immediately. Harry blinked and returned to the kitchen. _'Huh,'_ he thought, _'you learn new things everyday.'_ Who would've thought the cantankerous Severus Snape liked his coffee sweetened?

Harry returned to the living room with two steaming mugs in his hands (microwaves were wonderful things) and placed on in front of Remus and the other in front of Snape. He quickly returned to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea for himself (Harry had never gotten a taste for coffee) and then sat in the armchair across from Snape's with a sigh. He took a sip of his tea and set it down on the small table in the middle of the assortment of furniture before he fully turned his attention to their guest. He found that Snape's eyes were already searching his face, no doubt taking in the sharper, more beautiful face and uncovered tattoos.

"Now . . . ." Harry said quietly. "What news do you want to share with us, Professor?"

Snape was silent for several moments before he said, "Albus has been searching frantically for you for the last year, as you well know by now." Harry nodded. "The Ministry has decided to cease its efforts; they do not have much more money to waste anymore." Snape smirked slightly at that. "However, what may interest you is that the Dark Lord has no more interest in pursuing you than the Ministry does."

Harry leaned forward with a frown furrowing a line into his forehead. "Voldemort," he ignored the twin flinches, "isn't coming after me? I thought that his Death Eaters just hadn't managed to find us when we were travelling . . . . Not that he'd never even tried looking."

Snape snorted. "Idiot boy. If the Aurors could find you, the Death Eaters could. And several have volunteered to find you and bring you back to the Dark Lord as a gift. But he's refused. In fact, he's said that until you return to England he is content to ignore you."

Harry leaned back. "Huh," he said. "So Voldie doesn't think of me as a threat then? Interesting."

Snape twitched. _"Voldie_?" he asked acidly. Harry startled and then grinned.

"A pet name," he said airily and Snape twitched again. "Voldemort always sounds so scary and horrific; Voldie makes the name a little less frightening, if you will. Plus it was shorter than Moldy Shorts and Snake Face." Snape sighed and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, _"Potter's son, of course."_ Harry grinned.

"Anyways," he said. "How is everyone else? Hermione and Ron? Neville and Luna? The Order? The Weasleys?"

Snape sneered. "I don't keep tabs on your little friends, Potter," he snapped out. "But Mr. Longbottom has re-started that insipid little group you so rashly began in your fifth year, with Miss Lovegood helping him; though how she could do that is anyone's guess. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley seemed endlessly tied up in some sort of research project, though you wouldn't know anything about that now would you, Potter?" Snape eyed Harry suspiciously but the black-haired boy just gave him an innocent smile. Snape snorted and continued with the outpouring of news. "The Weasley family is how they've always been. The Order is half split between wanting to find you and believing you had a reason for leaving. I believe Tonks, Shacklebolt, Moody, and the Weasley twins are all set on you finishing whatever you're doing and letting you come back on your time."

"Moody, huh?" Harry murmured. "I would've thought he'd be with Dumbledore. They seemed pretty close."

"Apparently not." Snape smirked. "Albus does not have as many allies as he would like to believe."

Harry eyed Snape solemnly. "Any other news?" he asked quietly. Snape frowned, instantly recognizing what Harry was hinting about. Harry liked that about the man; he extremely sharp.

Snape sighed. " There have been a few major battles since you left, but no one you know has died—"

"How many people have died?!" Harry demanded, cutting Snape off.

The older man frowned and answered, "370 people have died and many more were injured."

Harry hunched into himself. "370 people . . . ." he murmured. "That's so many. I wonder, how many children have been left homeless? How many parents left childless?" He closed his eyes in pain.

"Harry . . . ." Remus said softly, coming into the conversation for the first time. "It wasn't your fault."

"No," Harry said flatly, his eyes still closed. "It wasn't. But I still feel pain for the survivors."

"Not for the dead, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, half curious.

"They've gone to a better place, Professor. But the people they've left behind have to feel the grief over their deaths. No, I only feel empathy for the families who've lost a loved one." Harry opened his pained green eyes and let out a sigh. "But I suppose nothing can be done about it now. Perhaps when I go back I'll find out if I can get a list of the families who've lost a loved one and speak to them . . . ."

"There'd be too many families to do that, Mr. Potter," Snape said, but at Harry's determined face he merely shook his head.

"Speaking of families," Harry said suddenly, sitting up in his chair. "Professor, do you happen to know anything about a Cullen family?"

Snape blanched, turning his pasty complexion pure white. It gave a whole new meaning to the saying 'pale as a ghost'. "The _Cullen_ family?!" he said sharply. "Where did you hear of them?!"

Harry blinked, intrigued and slightly alarmed by his ex-Professor's reaction to the name. "They live in Forks," he said cautiously. "The Cullen children go to school with me . . . . they're seniors."

Snape turned to Remus who, Harry saw, was also chalky pale. "Did you know of this?!"

"No!" Remus protested. "I knew that the shapeshifters lived here, but I had no idea the Cullens lived so close to them! Those two clans can't stand each other . . . . I don't know how they've managed not to kill each other off yet!" Harry noted that Remus' hands were shaking and wondered why.

"Who are they?" Harry asked and then corrected himself. "No, _what_ are they?"

"They are vampires, Potter," Snape said blankly. "A coven of vampires."

Harry frowned. He'd already considered vampires when he was considering what species the Cullen family was, but it still surprised him to hear it. "They feed on humans?" he asked musingly. "None of them have red eyes."

"No, they don't feed on humans," Snape said, seeming almost reluctant to let it pass his lips. "They feed on animals instead . . . . They are like . . . vegetarian vampires." Snape snorted. "Not that such a thing exists. They are headed by a man called Carlisle Cullen . . . . he's over 300 years old, but that's all I know of him." He gave Harry a sharp look. "What happened with the Cullens? Why are you curious about them?"

"I met one of they today and . . . . well . . . ." Harry shifted uncomfortably. "HetriedtogetinmymindandItoldhimnottodoitagain!"

Snape's sneer deepened. "What was that, Potter?" he asked softly and silkily which Harry knew meant he was angry.

"He, uhm, tried to invade my mind, but I blocked it off, and when I saw him again I got really pissed and told him never to do it again . . . . sir?" Harry squeaked.

"Which means that one of the Cullen family – part of a _coven of vampires_ – knows that you are not a normal human," Snape said, almost calmly. If Harry hadn't been a student under the man for five years he wouldn't have known he was angry.

"Yes," Harry said in a small voice. "But if we're lucky he'll only find out I'm a wizard."

Snape considered him thoughtfully, anger disappearing in the face of curiosity. "Are you something else, Mr. Potter?" he asked. He knew the answer, of course – Potter's changed looks hadn't gone unnoticed – but he didn't know what _kind_ of creature Potter was.

Harry froze. "Uhm . . . ." He looked to Remus and the werewolf shrugged and nodded. "I'm an arcàngelo," he said quietly.

Snape stopped short. "An _arcàngelo_?" he breathed. "Do you know how bloody rare those are, Potter?"

Harry cringed. "Yes. Yet another thing to set Perfect Potter apart," he added in a tad bitterly. Sometimes he just wished he could be normal instead of having all of the random and rare events happening to him. Snape ignored the bitterness in Harry's voice, instead opting to examine him from head to toe.

"Where are your wings?" he asked brusquely, setting aside the Cullen problem for the moment.

"Do you want to see them?" Harry asked, avoiding the question. Snape's eyes narrowed; it seemed Potter had some Slytherin in him after all.

"Yes," he said. "Arcàngelo wing feathers are a rare Potions ingredient, but only if they're fully matured. I want to see if yours are yet and if they are . . . to ask if I could have a few." Snape seemed hesitant and Harry understood why. It probably wasn't easy to ask a favor from the child of the man you hated in your teenage years.

"Of course, Professor," he said and Snape seemed to relax a bit. Harry stood and moved into a more open space in their living room; he'd go outside but it was still pouring out and he didn't want to get wet. Hopefully he wouldn't break anything . . . . He concentrated and his wings ripped out with only an ache to show for it. He'd been thankful that the pain had decreased every time his wings came out of his back.

Harry's wings were his favorite part of being an arcàngelo. They were still as beautiful as they had been when he'd first seen them; tall and starkly black with cool colors running through the feathers. He'd found that they were made to be like a bird's; after more research (mostly by Remus), they'd found that arcàngelo wings were fashioned rather like a falcon's. Snape stood up and moved across the room to examine Harry's wings more closely. Harry shifted uncomfortably as the older man took the tip of his wings in his hand and opened them further, looking closely at the glossy feathers covering the appendage. He felt strangely exposed as Snape examined him and as soon as his ex-Professor let go of his wing he took it back, pulling it sharply against his body so that it was cocooned around him. Snape's eyebrow rose at the motion but he said nothing about it.

Instead, he said, "Your wings are weeks away from full maturity, as far as I can tell from the miniscule amount of research there is about arcàngelo."

"I see," Harry said with a sigh. "You can have as many feathers as you wish when the time comes, Professor. It's the least I can offer you for what you've done for me and Remus."

Snape eyed him speculatively. "I see. Well then, I will be back in two week's time to see if they've yet to fully mature. Since I have given you all the news I have managed to acquire, this meeting can adjourn." He straightened his back and turned towards the fireplace.

"Severus!" Remus called out. "My offer of a room is still open." The werewolf looked ridiculously hopeful.

Snape tilted his head to the side, considering the werewolf for a moment, and then he sneered. "Silly wolf, Albus would notice if I was to leave for an entire night. I'll be back in two weeks." With that, he stepped through the fireplace. Harry watched him go in bemusement. He'd noticed that Snape hadn't said he didn't want to stay; rather, he'd said he _couldn't_. There was a large difference between the two when it came to Severus Snape. Remus, however, looked dejected.

"I'll ask him again next time," he murmured, standing. Harry turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Maybe we should continue the conversation we were having before Snape arrived, Remus," he said. "Is there a reason you want Snape to stay here so desperately?" Harry watched in amusement as Remus colored.

"Well . . . uhm . . ." The werewolf floundered as he tried to find an excuse. "It's a nice thing to do?" Even Remus must've realized how feeble his excuse sounded, for he winced as he said it.

"Remus," Harry said. "Do you like a certain Potions Professor?" Harry was starting to grin now, and Remus cursed the fact that Harry was a Potter. Even if he'd never met his father, he'd still inherited quite a bit of James' mischevious side. _'And Lily's sadism,'_ Remus thought sadly as he watched Harry grin at his embarrassment. _'Can't forget that.'_

Remus cringed. "Well . . . yes," he said slowly. "Actually." Harry was sure Remus' face could fry eggs at that point. The arcàngelo's grin turned into a full-fledged smirk.

"How long have you liked him?" he asked, genuinely curious. Had it been a year ago he would've been ranting about the general evil-ness of Snape alongside Sirius, but after growing up a bit he'd realized that while Snape was a mean, hard man, he wasn't a bad one. And he probably wouldn't look half-bad when he cleaned up a bit either. Harry could see why Remus would like Snape; after all, the man had plenty of good qualities, even if they were hidden underneath his sharp, brittle exterior.

Remus muttered something under his breath. When Harry just gave him a look, the werewolf's bright blush deepened (a feat Harry wouldn't have thought could happen) and he said more loudly, "Since a year after I graduated."

"Remus!" Harry said, shocked. "That's, what, 18 years?! Why haven't you said anything?" Surely Remus couldn't be that shy!

"Severus hates me, Harry," Remus said plainly. There wasn't any bitterness in his voice, just resignation. "He can barely tolerate to be in the same room with me, let alone be in a romantic relationship with me."

"I don't know about that," Harry said thoughtfully. "And I would know right? I mean, he's hated me for so long . . . . I think you're just being too pessimistic about it." He sighed. "But listen, if you really love him that much, I can give him a bit of nudging."

"No!" Remus cried, horrified. He remembered Lily's way of "nudging" was to shove the two unsuspecting persons into a closet for hours on end until they had wild hot sex together (Lily's words). James hadn't been much better. Remus doubted that their son could be much sneakier than they were. "I'll . . . uh, try to work it on my own, thanks," he added in, a little more calmly.

Harry gave him a suspicious look but shrugged. "If you're sure you're up to it," he said teasingly. "I can't imagine you being the aggressor in a relationship, Remus. You're just too nice."

Remus laughed. "Trust me, I have my own methods. But, enough of that. My love life isn't what we should be concerning ourselves with at the moment." His face became serious. "You said you met the Cullen family today?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I did. I didn't speak to any of them . . . except for Edward Cullen, the one who tried to invade my mind." He scowled. "Bastard."

"Now, wait a minute Harry," Remus said, trying to be the rational one in this conversation, like usual. "Some vampires have special abilities . . . perhaps Mr. Cullen's is that of mind reading. He probably didn't even know what he was doing is considered unspeakably rude and illegal in the wizarding world." Harry tilted his head to the side thoughtfully; that did actually make quite a bit of sense.

"Does his family even know of the wizarding world?" He asked doubtfully.

"Well, I don't know for sure. There isn't a lot of information about the Cullens, Harry. They tend to keep to themselves for the most part. But I believe their leader, Carlisle, has had dealings with the wizarding world before. They probably do know that it exists." Remus explained, fully in his Professor Lupin Teacher Mode™. Harry grinned a bit, but he returned to seriousness when he realized what he'd have to do the next time he saw the Cullens.

"I'm going to have to explain to his family, aren't I?" Harry said with a sigh.

Remus frowned. "I'm not sure. It would probably be best to at least inform them you're a wizard, but I think we'd better keep your name and creature heritage to ourselves. That is, if that haven't already figured out you're a creature." Harry made a sound of alarm and Remus smiled softly. "You have a rather distinctive scent, Harry, and it's not exactly human. If I can smell it, the vampires can. I'd be surprised if they didn't at least suspect you to be a creature, now that I think about it."

"I'll talk with Edward and his family on Monday," Harry said with a sigh. He sat back down in chair, leaning against it with a long groan. "I'm glad it's the weekend. Though why you forced me to start on a Friday, I have no idea. I could've just gone next Monday."

Remus smiled. "It's better that you had a day to get used to the atmosphere. Plus, you might be a little bit less of a novelty on Monday, hm?"

Harry thought of Eric's puppy like ways, Mike's subtle flirting, and Jessica's non-stop prattle and groaned again. "What I wouldn't give to stop getting attention," he murmured. "Merlin help me." **(1)**

* * *

Edward Cullen was confused, and he never handled confusion well.

The new kid – Harry Moon – was unlike anyone he'd ever met at Forks. Actually, he was unlike anyone Edward had met in his life, really. He hadn't paid much attention to the gossip running through the brains of girls and boys alike of a new kid at school when he'd arrived that morning; Edward never paid much attention to such things. But, during lunchtime, he'd heard a thought from a girl – he believed her name started with a J or something – that had went something like, _'So Harry's caught sight of the Cullens then!'_

He'd glanced up, looking first at the girl and then turning his attention to the boy next to her and had found his attention irrevocably caught. Large green eyes, a supernaturally beautiful face, long dark hair, and excellent and exotic fashion sense all put together made a very stunning picture. Harry Moon was an exceptionally good-looking teenager; almost on the level of his family. Edward had quickly turned away from the teen. And as he faced the wall he had realized he hadn't heard a whisper of a thought from Harry Moon. Not even a passing emotion. A slight frown had etched the perfect marble between his eyebrows and he'd concentrated his attention on the short, slight boy he'd known was only a little bit away from him. But still, there had been nothing. All Edward could feel from Harry was the slightest feeling of shadows and cobwebs. That had been it.

Edward had been baffled by that. He'd never met a mind he couldn't read, not even among his own kind. Every mind had always been open to him. Intrigued even more by this turn of events, he'd tuned back into the girl's mind, hoping to hear what Harry had been saying.

_"They're adopted then, I suppose,"_ Harry had said.

_"Yes. The Hales are actually related, but they're foster children." _J-something had told Harry.

_"That was nice of Mrs. Cullen, to take them in." _Edward had been surprised by how sincere Harry sounded. In Forks they'd gotten their share of hidden sneers and snide remarks about their situation. Even in the bigger world, there hadn't been many truly and sincerely happy for their family.

_"Yes, I suppose. But I heard Mrs. Cullen can't have kids." _The malicious undertone had been unmistakable. Edward had stiffened at that, his lips pulling back into a slight snarl. How dare that idiot say something like that about Esme! He'd growled low in his throat, ignoring the side glances from his siblings.

_"She must be a very kind woman, to take in five children. That she would open her home to orphans means she must be a very loving woman indeed." _Edward had smirked at that comment. It looked like Harry Moon had a bit of a defiant streak in him.

Lunch had gone by quickly and Edward found himself in Biology, staring blankly at the wall. He'd taken the class so often that he could do the work in his sleep if needed. His attention had only been caught when he'd heard the door open and a delicious scent had wafted throughout the room, capturing his attention.

The scent had been icy cold, the kind of smell that makes your nose tingle and only appears when the temperature dives under 30 degrees in the wintertime. But it had a spicy undertone to it, and the combination had been enough to make Edward's mouth water and for the canines he usually kept hidden to elongate. Edward had felt his inner monster stirring slightly, aroused by the scent, but he'd hurriedly shoved it back down. He'd looked up to see Harry Moon standing somewhat nervously in front of the class as he talked to the teacher (Edward could never remember his teacher's names; he'd had so many, they all just blurred together). Harry had smiled as he collected his slip and hurriedly made his way to the empty seat next to Edward. The vampire had moaned his protest inwardly, aware that the delicious scent must be coming from the new boy.

He'd stiffened as Harry had come close to him, overwhelmed by the wonderful scent. _'Damnit,'_ he'd thought, feeling his monster struggling to get out. He'd never felt so anxious to drink blood from someone before. He could practically taste it on his lips, rich, sweet, and overflowing with that wonderful scent . . . . Edward had shook his head mentally. No. He couldn't afford to think like that.

Edward had glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye as the smaller boy set his books down and had prepared to sit. Suddenly he'd had the overwhelming urge to find out what Harry Moon was thinking had set upon him and he had stabbed fiercely at Harry's mind. He'd blinked when Harry had frozen half-way to sitting down, his eyes wide with shock. Harry had hurriedly taken his seat after a few moments, but a stunned and thoughtful look had remained on his face. Edward still wasn't sure why Harry had turned to look at Edward with the darkest glare the vampire had seen in his lifetime. Edward had been completely surprised, but had returned the glare full-force, frustrated by the refusal into Harry's mind and the sweet, overwhelming smell that continually drew up the monster inside of him.

Harry had turned away, apparently content to fume in silence while Edward, on the other hand, had tried to breathe as little as possible. Every time he'd sucked air in, he would breathe in that wonderful, intoxicating, utterly dangerous scent. His urge to drink, to feast on the delicate creature next to him had risen so high that Edward had feared he'd need to leave to preserve his family's secret. He'd never been so thankful to hear the bell in his entire life.

He'd considered leaving after that class, but he'd thought it better for the Cullen family reputation if he stayed. During his last class of the day, he'd pondered Harry Moon. Away from Harry's intoxicating scent, he had been analyze it better. Looking back, he'd realized that the scent hadn't really been human, as far as he was able to tell. Edward wasn't often around non-humans other than his own family and sometimes other vampire's covens, so he wasn't able to tell for sure. But there had definitely been a non-human undertone to the scent. Edward had wondered about that throughout the class and as he walked to his car.

"Edward! Edward Cullen!" Edward had groaned when he heard that voice behind them; there had been no mistaking the exotic accent of Harry Moon. He'd turned and had instantly been bombarded by Harry's scent. He'd closed his eyes, concentrating on reigning his monster in, and when he looked again Harry had been standing in front of him, looking extremely pissed. Edward had thought the look made him look very adorable.

"I don't care what the fuck you are," Harry had hissed angrily. "But you will never try and invade my mind again." Then the little teenager had whirled away, leaving Edward to stare after him in utter shock.

Edward was home now, sitting in his room as he pondered the events of the day. The main thing on his mind was, of course, Harry Moon. How had the teenager been able to tell that Edward had tried to get it in his mind? Obviously, he wasn't a normal human, if he was human at all. His scent was another puzzling matter; not only how alluring it was, but the non-human essence to it continued to baffle Edward.

The more he thought about Harry, the more intrigued he became with the younger boy. He'd never met a teenager who'd snapped at him the way Harry had; indeed, he'd rarely had people get that angry with him in the first place. Edward had always been able to charm his way into anyone's heart, knowingly or not, and to have someone rebuke him was strangely refreshing. And Harry's complete beauty when he was angry helped quite a bit as well. _'He's very fiery,'_ Edward thought, leaning against the wall behind him. _'I wonder why? Where does he live? And with whom? Why does he have such a strange accent?'_ He found that he was curious about everything in Harry Moon's life.

_'Edward?'_ Alice's voice floated through his head. _'Do you think you could come here for a moment?'_

Edward immediately got up and hurried to Alice's room. She was sitting on the floor, staring out the window. When Edward came in, her head turned and she gave a dazzling smile as she got to her feet and rushed to his side faster than any mortal's eye would be able to see.

"I just got the most exciting vision!" Alice squealed. "You talked to that new kid Harry Moon today, didn't you?" Edward nodded. "Well . . . . Let's just say he'll have a few surprises in store for us on Monday." She gave him a sly smile. "Better be prepared, Edward." She skipped around him, giggling crazily. Edward just sighed. Sometimes he couldn't believe his sister was a vampire.

"You won't tell me anymore than that?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Alice enjoyed being cryptic far too much.

"Nope!" she said, sticking her tongue out at him. "I want it to be a surprise!"

Edward sighed again. "Fine, have it your way." He hesitated for a moment and then asked, "Alice, do you think I should leave?"

"No!" Alice practically yelled, gripping Edward's arm tightly. "You can't leave, Edward," she added, a little more calmly. "Trust me, you won't hurt him. And you're _not_ in danger of exposing our secret. In fact, things would be worse if you _did_ leave. So stay." Edward nodded, a little stunned by the force of her reaction. Alice giggled. "Good doggie."

"Doggie!" Edward protested, but his lips were twitching.

"Yes, doggie," Alice laughed. "No, you can leave, doggie. Go back to thinking about Harry." She gave him another sly smirk and Edward groaned. You could never hide anything from Alice.

* * *

**Author's Note:** And we will end there. Next chapter – what'll happen Monday? Ohoho, Harry's got surprises in store for our favorite cuddly vampires . . . . I wasn't very happy with my Edward part, but bleh, what'll you do? Please leave a review! (Not that you guys have been skimping out on that part! ^O^)

**(1)** You know, I think that's the longest single scene I've ever written! Wow. I'm kind of impressed with myself now. Hope I didn't bore you with my never-ending rambles though. XD


	6. Chapter Four: Surprises

**WARNING: **There are some **SPOLIERS** for **Deathly Hallows** in here.

**Author's Note:** Hoshiz, all of these reviews make me feel ultra-popular guys. Seriously, I gape whenever I check my inbox! Thanks so much! XD Sorry for the long wait and the shortness of the chapter.

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter Four: Surprises**

If a friend is in trouble, don't annoy him by asking if there is anything you can do. Think up something appropriate and do it. (Edgar Watson Howe)

A true friend never gets in your way unless you happen to be going down. (Arnold Glasow)

Nothing but heaven itself is better than a friend who is really a friend. (Plautus)

Secrets are things we give to others to keep for us. (Elbert Hubbard)

"It is only a saying: To those who will see, the world waits." (The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray)

* * *

**Forks, Washington  
****September 8****th****, 1997**

Uncomfortable had a name, and it was Harry Potter.

He stared up at the big gray building in front of him from his truck, frowning as he wished he could be anywhere but there at the moment. He didn't want to go inside and deal with the Cullens or, for that matter, any of his classmates. Harry wasn't a social person by nature. Even at Hogwarts, he'd mostly stuck to Hermione and Ron and hadn't really been closer to more people until his fifth year during DA. Even during that, the only people he really connected to were Neville and Luna. So Harry, understandably, wasn't very thrilled about being the center of attention (_yet again_) at his new school.

But he didn't have any choice but to go in. Remus would have his head if he skipped or came home, especially since he was supposed to gather up the Cullens and nicely explain that he wasn't a normal human and was, in fact, a wizard. Harry just hoped that Edward wouldn't be stupid enough to try and invade his mind again, because if he did Harry wouldn't be responsible for what he did to that blasted vampire.

Sighing, Harry climbed out of his truck, running to the building to avoid getting very wet. The hallways were packed with students and Harry weaved his way around them as he found his way to his first class. He was glad he already knew where it was; maybe Remus did have a point about having an extra day to get to know the school a bit more. He slumped into his desk, making no move to take off his damp coat and dry his hair, and stared blankly at the wall across from him until the class started. However, even when his teacher began talking, Harry didn't pay attention. His mind was grappling with a much more important dilemma.

How was he even going to raise the topic of his . . . "non-humanness" to the vampires? He supposed the best time to talk to them would be during lunch; it was the only time he was in the same room with all of them at the same time. Harry didn't want to confront any of the vampires one on one, least of all Edward. Harry scowled at the thought of it. No, it'd be better to confront them all together. It may make him seem a bit conspicuous to the rest of the teenagers, but maybe if they thought he was linked to the Cullens, they'd stay away from him. Harry didn't want to have to deal with chattering teenagers; despite being one himself, Harry was a bit more mature for his age considering he'd had a megalomaniac after him for years and had also had to deal with harsh abuse from his supposed family members. Because he'd dealt with these hardships, it made him impatient with people who filled their heads with silly, worthless things like gossip and slander. He might be able to become "friends" with a few of the teenagers at this school, but he knew for certain that at least three-fourths of the girls (and maybe even a fourth of the guys) he would have to avoid or risk losing his brain cells. **(1)**

Harry sighed with relief when the bell rang and gathered his un-used notebook into his bag. That was one period done; he only had four more to go until lunch. Harry couldn't help feeling like this was going to be a particularly _long_ day.

* * *

Lunch was a chaotic affair to Harry's eyes. Of course, he was used to Hogwarts' lunches where everyone had a table they were required to sit at and the food popped up on its own. He could barely remember a time when he'd had to stand in line to get a variety of disgusting food and actually find a table to sit at. He'd been lucky on his first day to have someone invite him to their table, he supposed. But he wasn't that worried about finding a table; he'd already decided where he was going to sit.

The Cullens sat in a corner of the lunchroom, dominating a table all to themselves. It wasn't really surprising that no one else was brave enough to ask to join them; most humans would probably be wary of vampires just from instinct. Harry sighed as he stepped out of the lunch-line with a plate of food that he knew he wasn't going to eat in his hands. _'Maybe if I do it inconspicuously, no one else will notice,'_ he thought, sliding over to the Cullens table as casually as he could.

As he started to get closer to the table, he noticed that Edward Cullen was watching him with wary, dark eyes. Harry glared at him, but continued his course. He may still be angry at the vampire, but he had to explain or Remus would have his hide. However, he did wonder what the vampire thought of him. Surely he had to be confused about what Harry was. But Harry shook those thoughts off; the Cullens' confusion would be solved soon enough.

Thankfully, there was one extra seat between the tiny, dancer-like girl (Alice or Rosalie, Harry knew her name had to be one of those; she looked more like an Alice to his eyes) and Edward himself. Harry slid into it comfortably, not even bothering to ask if he could join them or not. He did wince when he heard silence ripple throughout the lunchroom: so much for being inconspicuous. However, his back was to the rest of the room, so Harry decided to just wait until the rest of the teenagers got over their shock and not worry about it. What he _did_ have to worry about was the five vampires that were all now staring at him with expressions ranging from disgust (the snobby looking blonde beauty that Harry thought was named Rosalie) to glee (from the dark-haired girl, Alice, strangely enough).

Harry, however, didn't speak until he heard the noise level in the cafeteria rise again to its normal level. He didn't want to be overheard by a teenager who wouldn't think twice about spreading rumors around the school that both Harry and the Cullens couldn't afford.

"Edward probably told you about what happened Friday, right?" he asked calmly. The big, muscled guy (Emmett or Jasper, Harry wondered) grinned.

"About how you chewed him out?" he said saucily. "Yeah, he told us about that bit."

Harry grinned back at him. He had a feeling he was going to like the muscled one. "Well, that too," he acknowledged, sending a sideways glance at the vampire in question. Edward seemed to be trying to burn a hole into his brother with his eyes. Harry chuckled slightly at the sight, causing the vampire to turn his head sharply towards him, dark eyes meeting green. Harry looked away first, though he didn't know why. He wasn't usually one to back down from a challenge. But there was something wild lingering behind Edward's eyes; it wasn't a look that Harry was particularly fond of. When he looked down, he noticed that the vampire's hands were clenching the end of the table, making them appear even whiter than they had before (if that was even possible). Harry winced, looking away.

"Anyways," he said, clearing his throat. "I suppose you lot have guessed I'm not a normal human."

"How do you know we're not normal humans as well?" the blonde girl, Rosalie, challenged, a glint in her icy eyes.

"If one of you can try and penetrate my mind, you're most definitely not human," Harry said dryly. "Besides, where I come from you're as well known as any vampire coven is. Partly because of your leader, Carlisle, I imagine."

All of the vampires tensed, their stoic faces becoming positively icy. Except for Alice, that was. Instead, a smile stretched across her face, making her look a little bit crazy. Harry absently wondered if she _was_ crazy as he waited for one of the vampires to speak.

"What are you?" This question came from the blond boy who'd yet to speak. "You smell . . . _different_." He had a pained look on his porcelain face, and Harry noticed that his hands were gripping the side of the table rather tightly, like Edward's were. _'Hmm,'_ Harry thought, eyeing his hands. _'Maybe he's newly turned. It's supposed to be difficult for the first fifty years or so . . . . I wonder if that's why Edward doesn't have complete control of himself either? Maybe they're both newly turned.'_

"Have you ever heard of the wizarding world?" Harry asked quietly. Their widened eyes told him all he needed to know. "Well, then, that makes this easier. I'm a wizard."

The blonde beauty frowned. "Are you really?" she asked suspiciously. "You don't smell like any wizard _I've_ ever met. And you smell like wolf too," she added in with a slight frown. Harry thought that she probably didn't want to give herself wrinkles by making deep facial expressions.

Absently, he wondered what he should tell them. Would it really hurt to let them know he was a creature? Remus hadn't expressly forbidden him to do so, and it might make it easier to connect with them. "I _am_ something else," he said quietly. "But I can't tell you exactly what until I talk with my father about it. He wanted me to keep it a secret. Although, he probably won't mind me telling you that he's a werewolf. That's where the wolf smell comes from."

Brawny one (Emmett maybe? Harry thought it seemed like a strange name for so large a guy) started in surprise and Rosalie hissed violently. The others, however, reacted more calmly. Alice's smile merely grew, the other Blonde (Jasper? That seemed pretty likely) pressed his lips together calculatingly, and Edward's eyes narrowed in on Harry's face.

"You're the son of a werewolf?" Rosalie snapped at him, eyes flashing gold. "Does that mean you're a werewolf too? Is that your big secret?" She sounded scornful.

"Not really," Harry answered calmly. He'd already thought of his answers to this part of the conversation; really, he would've thought one of them would've noticed Remus' scent on him sooner. "Faolan is my adopted father. I've lived with him since I was a child." _'If only,'_ Harry thought sadly. "I'm something else."

"You _lived_ with a werewolf?" Rosalie's nose crinkled slightly. Harry's eyes narrowed at her, and he leaned forward over the table to look her straight in the eye. She may be a vampire, but Harry was an arcàngelo, which made him her equal. He wasn't afraid of her.

"Yes, I did," he murmured. "And I thank Merlin everyday that I managed to live with someone as kind and loving as Faolan. Just because he's a werewolf doesn't mean he's evil . . . you guys should know that." He leaned back and turned away from her astonished face.

"He's got you there, Rosie," Brawny one said with a smirk. Rosalie turned her nose up with a huff, reminding Harry eerily of the Malfoy's for a moment.

"That's not what we're here to talk about," Edward said firmly. "You said you're a wizard? And that you're . . . something else?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I did. You don't have a hearing deficiency, do you?" Alice giggled at his side, sounding positively gleeful. Edward's eyes darted towards her and then narrowed in on Harry. However, to Harry's surprise, they lightened slightly in amusement.

"No; a deaf vampire would be pretty odd, wouldn't you say?" he asked lightly. Harry blinked.

"Well, you're all old enough to have hearing aids, so you see how I might've been confused," he answered back, in true smart-ass fashion. He had, after all, learned cheekiness from the best.

Edward chuckled lightly and Harry felt his head swim at the sound. He may be an arcàngelo, but it didn't mean he was completely immune to the vampires' charms. Luckily, he recovered quickly and he doubted anyone had noticed his lack of attention. Turning away from Edward, he became serious once more.

"Look, I just wanted to let you know," he said. "It was a stupid slip to give myself away, but I'd rather you knew than have you poking around in curiosity. I'll ask my father if I can tell you about what I am, but I doubt he'll make me keep my lips closed if I ask and as long as you guys can keep your mouths shut. But if you keep my secret, I'll keep yours."

"Of course, Harry!" Alice chirped. Her grin was wide and eager. "But there is a price!"

Harry tensed, staring at the tiny girl. "What price?" he asked and there was an edge to his voice that none of the vampires could ignore.

"You have to have lunch with us!" Alice said, beaming. "Everyday!" she added in.

Harry blinked. Of everything that had run through his mind when she'd said that there was a condition, having lunch with them had not been it. She was a strange little vampire, he mused. "Why do you want to have lunch with me?" he asked.

"Because you're interesting," Alice said, still grinning. "And I like you. You're different, like us. We should stick together."

Harry frowned, wondering if there was another motive. But if there was, he couldn't see it, and he doubted having lunch with vampires would harm him. In fact, it might help him. Maybe if he hung out with the "outcasts" the other teenagers would back away from him for a while. And he was curious about the vampires . . . .

"Alright," he said, glancing around the table. He noticed Rosalie wasn't happy about the situation, but everyone else at the table seemed fine with it. "So . . . can I get some introductions?" he asked. "I already know Edward, obviously, and you must be Rosalie," he nodded at the blonde and she sniffed in affirmation. "And you're Alice," he added to the tiny girl. She nodded happily. "Which leaves Emmett and Jasper," he mused, staring at the two remaining boys. He was pretty sure the smaller blond boy was Jasper, but it never hurt to ask.

"You remembered all of our names?" Edward murmured, looking a little surprised.

"Well, yes," Harry said distractedly. "They're kind of hard names to forget. You don't normally hear them around here anymore, at least. Plus, I have a knack for names." He snapped his fingers. "You're Emmett," he said decidedly as he pointed to the brawny one, "and you're Jasper."

"Got it in one, Shorty!" Emmett said with a laugh. Harry glared at the much taller vampire.

"Don't call me _short_, O Overly Muscled One," he hissed out. Emmett just continued to laugh.

"I could get used to that name," he teased. Harry just glared at him.

"Damned tall people," he muttered, turning away from the still laughing Emmett. He blinked with surprise when he noticed that Edward was glaring at his brother as well.

"What's the matter with you?" Harry asked in confusion. Edward's eyes swung towards his. "You've been acting like a pregnant woman throughout this entire conversation." Edward blinked, a completely human gesture, before giving a laugh. Behind Harry's back, Jasper and Alice exchanged smiles.

"As far as I know, males can't get pregnant," Edward said with a slight smile. Harry huffed.

"Just because they can't physically doesn't mean they can't get as moody as a pregnant woman," he said sniffily. "As you so aptly demonstrated for us all." Edward chuckled again.

"Let's just say I didn't have enough to eat last night," he murmured, and the laughter in his eyes died, its place taken by something much darker. Harry tensed, feeling nervous by the tone in Edward's voice. But Edward just took a deep breath and smiled again.

"Anyways," he said. "Would you mind telling me how you were able to block me out of your thoughts?" His eyes had a curious glint. Harry chuckled humorlessly.

"It's a skill called Occlumency," he said. "Anyone can master it, but few wizards actually try. Legilimency is the invasion of the mind; much like what you can do. I learned Occlumency last year . . . . I've been trained to keep unwanted intruders out of my mind." He sent a long look towards Edward. "And if you try it again, you might find yourself missing a certain vital piece of male anatomy." Edward nodded, though he looked more amused than scared at the thought. Harry scowled and cursed his delicate build. No one would take him seriously if he looked like the worst he could harm was a fly!

"Bloody genetics," he murmured, and he blinked when he heard several low chuckles. He looked up at the smiling vampires (except for Rosalie, but Harry already figured her as a sort of arrogant snob) and he smiled as well, forgetting his ire. He'd just met this coven, but he felt like they could become . . . friends of a sort. This was a thought that both terrified and comforted him at the same time.

* * *

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
****September 10****th****, 1997**

Albus Dumbledore was usually an extremely patient man. He'd learned over his long years of living that patience was a valuable tool when manipulating things into his or his cause's favor. But he'd found that his patience was running short, as of late. And it was all due to one small, green-eyed Savior of the wizarding world.

Harry Potter was one of Albus' greatest achievements, in his opinion. It had taken meticulous planning and quite a bit of effort, but the boy had come to rely quite dependently on Albus. Albus had been pleased with how much Harry looked up to him and how much trust the boy had in him. Or, at least the boy had had until the whole episode with Sirius Black. Albus sighed at the thought of the now dead ex-convict. Things had been working perfectly until Sirius had become foolish and gotten himself killed.

Albus hadn't been sure about where he stood with Harry after the boy's tantrum in his office. He'd decided to send the boy off to the Dursley home without another confrontation, to let him cool off over the summer before approaching him again. Albus knew that eventually Harry, being the good-hearted true-blue Gryffindor he was would accept Sirius' death and live on, thinking that that would be what his godfather would want for him. Then when Albus picked him up from the Dursley home and apologized, Harry would be back to his normal respectful self and forgive him.

It had been a good plan, in Albus' opinion, until Remus Lupin had burst in demanding to see Harry. Albus knew that he couldn't let the werewolf see the boy in the situation he was in, so he decided to send a letter. In it, he'd added in an extra warning that everything was to look normal in the Dursley household, even if Petunia had to clear out her husband and son to make it look so. But the next day, young Harry Potter and Remus Lupin had disappeared. And even Albus was clueless to their whereabouts.

He was starting to get impatient. It had been an entire year since Harry and Remus had disappeared, and the public was getting restless. Albus knew that soon he'd have to do something to reassure them – perhaps news that Harry would return soon, or a letter to the public from the Savior himself. They would eat it up, as they always did with news involving Harry, and it would allay their fears while Albus continued to search for the boy. He was certain he was closing in on the two; he'd forced them from their hiding places half a dozen times now, and surely they would slip up at least once. Once he got them back to England, he could work on re-manipulating Harry again. Remus, he'd lost hope for. Perhaps he could send the werewolf on a dangerous mission . . . . Albus smiled at the thought. Remus Lupin had caused him a lot of grief lately.

A soft whistle echoed in the room, alerting Albus that someone was at his door. He looked up and waved it open with a bit of wandless magic, admitting Severus into the room. The dark-haired man looked as blank as ever; Albus always found it difficult to read Severus' face.

"Severus, my dear boy," he said, adopting his usual personality of an old, kind-hearted crazy person. "What can I do for you this afternoon?"

"Mr. Kingsley," Severus said with a sneer, "wanted me to inform you that they have narrowed down Potter and Lupin's location to South America."

Albus frowned inwardly at the thought. _'South America?'_ he mused. _'Well it's no less unlikely than any other place they've gone. Though it does seem a bit strange . . . . Perhaps I should ask Kingsley to be extra thorough in this search. We have to catch them this time.'_

"Ah, that's excellent!" Albus said, showing none of his thoughts on his face.

Severus' sneer deepened. "Yes, I'm positively ecstatic," he murmured. Albus had to suppress a true smile at that; dear Severus was always so sarcastic. It could be quite amusing at times.

"Would you like some tea, dear boy? Perhaps a lemon drop? I do love them so, but I'd be willing to part with one if you wish . . . .?"

"No thank you, Headmaster," Severus said, looking faintly disgusted. Albus sighed inwardly. One day, he'd get Severus to take one of his lemon drops, and then the Potions Master would be spilling all of his secrets. It was a little known fact that lemon drops' flavor was strong enough to suppress the taste of practically any potion; that was why Albus had made such a public showing of eating them. If people saw him eating them all the time, they wouldn't be surprised or suspicious when he offered them some. Tea, on the other hand, was so weakly flavored that the most it could hold was Vertasium; and Albus could only use that with the least suspicious of people.

"The Dark Lord hasn't had much activity for the past few days; I believe that he's planning something," Severus said, staring straight ahead. Albus straightened slightly, sliding easily into his "Light Leader" face.

"Do you have any idea what his plans could be, Severus?"

"He still has not confided in me," Severus admitted with a slight sneer. "However, I do not believe he suspects me; I have been busy for the past few days re-stocking Dark Potions for him. Perhaps he merely wanted to wait until I was done."

"That could be true," Albus said, although personally he felt that Severus' time as a spy was coming towards an end. Albus wouldn't be able to protect him; whether he died from Voldemort's hands or the madness of the dark mark twisting on his left arm, Albus couldn't predict. It was a shame, though; Severus was such an excellent potion maker.

"Well, keep me updated if anything comes up, Severus," he said genially. Severus stood, clearly recognizing the dismissal. He swept from the room in his usual dramatic form and Albus was once again left to his thoughts. He stared at Fawkes' empty pedestal, wondering absently where the blasted bird had gone. Fawkes seemed to keep disappearing these days . . . .

* * *

Meanwhile, a few corridors down, a certain group of people were gathering in the ever elusive Room of Requirement. The room they conjured was comfortable with four squishy armchairs gathered around a roaring fire.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were the first to arrive in this little haven. They sat in nearby chairs tiredly, both of them looking worn and exhausted. The door soon opened quietly to admit the two other people they were meeting; Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. While these two teens looked better than their cohorts, there were still dark circles under their eyes.

"Have you had anymore letters?" Neville asked, always the first question out of his mouth whenever they met together secretly. Hermione and Ron both shook their heads regretfully.

"He's in hiding, Neville," Hermione said quietly. "I think it was risky enough for him to send those first letters."

Neville sighed. "I know. But it'd be nice to hear from him every once in a while. He _did_ tell you guys he'd write. It's been a year! We don't know how he's doing, what he's doing, or even if he's . . . ." he trailed off, not even able to utter it aloud. Ron shook his head firmly.

"It's Harry, mate," he said. "He won't die."

Neville smiled weakly. "I wish I had your confidence," he said. Neville wished that he could have complete faith, but he remembered Harry's years at Hogwarts and realized just how close his friend had come to death. It was a scary thought. Harry was his friend; perhaps his best friend, even if the black-haired boy already had some of those. The thought of losing him was just as scary as the thought of losing any of those in the room at moment, or of losing his grandma.

"It will be alright, Neville," Luna said dreamily. "The Nargle will be protected by the Crumple-Horned Snorkack and the Heliopath."

"Harry's the Nargle," Neville explained to a slightly bemused Hermione and Ron. "But I have no idea what she's talking about for the rest. Maybe Remus? Harry did take off with him, after all . . . ." Neville sighed. "Whatever she means, I hope she's right."

"All of us do, Neville," Hermione said sincerely. "But we should get to work!" She pulled out a bulging notebook. "I've finally finished my research into the Headmaster's past!" she said excitedly. Ron sighed, rubbing his nose. Only Hermione could be so excited about something like that.

He decided to add in his two cents. "I've finished my work too. Everyone thinks that Harry's either in Africa fighting bears," he smirked a little at that, "or in Asia becoming a ninja."

Neville laughed at that. Luna smiled dreamily at him, but Hermione was too busy flipping through her notebook to notice anything else. Ron scowled slightly.

"Here it is!" she cried, opening to a certain page. "Everything I could find out about Grindelwald's battle."

She started to read out her notes, running her finger along the page as she did so.

"Happened in 1945, during the last year of the Muggle Second World War," Hermione shuddered slightly at the mention of it. "Albus Dumbledore and co. attacked Grindelwald's fortress and they was a huge battle. The Headmaster defeated Grindelwald but . . . ." Hermione hesitated. "There's nothing about Grindelwald getting killed. In fact, most stories stop right before the killing blow. Also . . . ."

She turned to another page. "I looked back further and found out that Grindelwald and the Headmaster worked together at some point." Neville and Ron both looked shocked. Luna, on the other hand, retained her dreamy state. "It doesn't say how or what they did together though." Hermione looked frustrated.

"Why is it so important that you do this again?" Ron asked. "Harry just asked you to watch Dumbledore, not write a book on him."

"If Harry's been so horribly treated by the Headmaster, then I want to see if there's anything dirty in his past so I can use it against him," Hermione said fiercely. Ron blinked at her, completely surprised by the response.

He gaped for several moments before saying, "Blimey, 'Mione, you sure you weren't considered for Slytherin?"

Hermione sniffed imperiously. "The Sorting Hat may have suggested it, yes."

Ron's mouth fell open even wider. "Really?! I was just joking!" He looked half horrified, half shocked.

"Oh Ronald, it wouldn't have been that bad," Hermione said snappishly. "But back to the point! If I can find out how close the Headmaster and Grindelwald were, than maybe we'll have something against him!"

"That's a pretty good idea, Hermione," Neville said thoughtfully. "I mean, Harry will come back at any time; if he wants to work against the Headmaster, then its better that we're prepared right?"

Ron turned his gape towards his year mate; even innocent, nice Neville was in on this!

"I agree," Luna said dreamily. "Harrison will want this information."

All three didn't even blink an eye at the formal name, too used to referring to Harry by that name. The first time they'd asked about it, Luna had just said that it was Harry's true name and she was going to call him by it. Ron figured she called him that for the same reason she called him Ronald; that reason still eluded him, but if it made Luna happy to call him by his full name than he wouldn't object. The strange girl had become his friend over the last year.

"I'll see if I can find any books that go deeper into the subject," Hermione said with a frown.

"If you look on Knockturne Alley, you'll find what you need in a shop of spiders," Luna said, a little more seriously. She locked eyes with Hermione.

Hermione, despite being the one initially skeptical of Luna's abilities, accepted the hint just as seriously. "I'll have to see if I can find any shops owned by someone with the name of Spider or named Spider," she murmured to herself.

"How's DA going, Neville?" Ron asked. "Are you any closer to getting the Slytherins to join?" He made a face as he said this, but said nothing else against the subject.

"No," Neville looked put-out. "I've been trying for so long, but they just don't trust me. I think I may be starting to get to Zabini and Greengrass though."

"You still haven't approached Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

Neville sighed. "I think we have to wait for Harry to come back to deal with Malfoy. He's always been one of the only one with the guts to stand up to him. Unless one of you two want to try?" He looked at the two other Gryffindors hopefully.

Ron shook his head. "No can do, mate. I still hate that poncy git's guts."

Hermione sighed. "I would, but I doubt he'd take me very seriously either. Plus, I don't know how I'd reach out to him. I think you're right Neville; Harry's the only one that can deal with Malfoy. Until then, we'll just keep on trying with the rest of the Slytherins."

"Hopefully we have more luck this year than we did last year," Neville said. "I'll see if I can press them a little harder. But other than that, the DA's going great!" Neville's eyes lit up and he leaned forward in his seat. "Everyone's doing really well! I'm proud of how many people we've managed to get into it . . . Slytherins aside. I think Voldemort will be shocked when he comes up against us."

All four of them had gotten used to saying Voldemort's name, unwilling to fight an enemy called You-Know-Who.

"That's wonderful Neville," Hermione said with a warm smile on her face. "It's too bad we haven't been able to attend for the last few months . . . . We'll have to drop by next time. When's your next meeting?"

"This Saturday," Neville said. "And it's here, as usual. You both should drop by." He beamed happily at them. Hermione mused that Harry had had a good idea in making Neville the leader of the DA instead of Ron or herself. He benefited from it as much as his students did; in the past months she'd seen Neville more confident and controlled than she had in the past six years at Hogwarts.

"We'll definitely be there," she said, and Ron nodded. They talked for a little while longer on everyday things like classes and homework before finally standing and going their separate ways.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry it took me so long! I had some trouble writing out the scene between Hermione & co. so it took me longer than I thought it would to write this chapter. I was going to add in another scene at the end of this, but I eventually decided that it work better at the beginning of the next chapter, which is another reason this chapter is a bit short. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review (not that you guys have been skimping out on that! XD).

**(1)** No offence meant, of course. I am a teenager girl also. But I've found that many girls at my school tend to be more concerned with gossiping than having actual conversations. Of course, that could just be because they have more serious conversations elsewhere, but that's just my experience.


	7. Chapter Five: Curiosity

**Author's Note: **I'm really, really sorry for how long this took to update. For a long time I was debating re-writing this story, but in the end I decided that it was fine the way it was. Hopefully because this crisis is over, I can update faster next time. Once again, I'm really sorry.

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter Five: Curiosity**

Dumbledore shook his head. "Curiosity is not a sin," he said. "But we should excersise caution with our curiosity . . . Yes indeed . . . ." (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_)

* * *

**Forks, Washington  
****September 13****th****, 1997**

". . . and now I have to eat lunch with them everyday," Harry finished, slightly out of breath. Remus sat across from him, looking thoughtful as he explained what had happened with the Cullen family that afternoon.

"Well, I suppose it could be worse," he murmured. "They seem to like you, right?" Harry nodded. "Thank Merlin they aren't against wizards; that would make everything _much_ harder. But Harry . . . are you sure about telling them about you being an arcàngelo?"

Harry sighed. "Why not? I've already informed them that I'm "something else" and telling them won't harm me. They don't know who I really am anyways. What harm could it really do?"

Remus frowned. "I don't like how we're just giving away our secrets like this, but I suppose you have a point. Perhaps it could be a good thing even," he added, his face turning thoughtful. "Having a group of vampires as allies could help us immensely."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I suppose. Even so, we're not divulging all of our secrets, Remus. They still don't know who we are or anything."

"Yes, that's true. Whatever else we tell them that has to remain in the dark for now. Perhaps if we decide that they can be trusted they can know, but for now . . . ."

"For now it remains a secret," Harry finished. "No worries; I wasn't planning on telling them anyways. I already feel uncomfortable enough with them knowing as much as they do now." He sounded slightly bitter.

Remus eyed him worriedly. "Harry, are you sure you want to tell them about your heritage? You don't have to. You could just tell them that I forbid it—"

"No," Harry cut him off rather forcefully. "Look, Remus, you're right. They could be good allies, and they'll never trust me if I keep something like this from them. Hell, I don't even know if they'll still trust me if I ever decide to tell them about my true identity. But if I don't tell them now, then they'll just be suspicious of us and that's the last thing we need right now."

Remus still looked worried, but he didn't voice any more objections. Instead, changing the subject, he said, "So, do you like them?"

Harry frowned. "Well . . . kind of, I suppose," he said reluctantly.

He wasn't sure exactly _what_ he felt for the Cullen family. Harry had never been very good at social interaction; his friends had been limited to Hermione and Ron for quite some time, and even the DA hadn't managed to get rid of his social awkwardness. Approaching the Cullen's had been uncomfortable, but Harry had managed to throw up a smile for the occasion and pretend that he was fine, just as he had for any other uncomfortable event in his life. But after the initial first meeting, the Cullen's had been surprisingly good company. They'd managed to make him relax around them, which was more than could be said for most people.

"Alice is nice, if a bit strange," Harry told Remus, "and Emmett is loud but fun. Jasper's quiet, and I think that he was only recently turned; probably being near so many humans is hard for him. Rosalie is stuck up," he scowled. "She reminds me of Malfoy." Remus laughed. "And Edward . . . ." he trailed off, pondering the last vampire. "Well, he's strange as well," he decided, crinkling his nose. "I suppose I _do_ like them," he concluded.

Remus' eyes softened; it had been tough on Harry, moving all the time. He'd left his only true, good friends back home, and they couldn't even mail them again for fear of interception. Remus tried, but he couldn't be the same as a friend Harry's age. He could only hope that these Cullen's wouldn't break Harry's trust and that his cub would become close to them. After all, with their house under the Fidileous, it would be difficult for anyone to find them. It was how they'd managed to stay so long in Japan; perhaps here it would be harder to find them, since they were in such a remote area. Remus did hope that this would be the last place they'd run to; he hoped Harry would be ready to go home soon. He knew that the war had to be heating up back home, especially with the Boy-Who-Lived gone. He worried about the state of his home and about the people he cared about in the Order and about Hogwarts. But he would never force Harry to go back; the boy could only do it in his own time. Remus could only pray that it would be soon. Personally, he felt that Harry was as ready as he was ever going to be. They both knew that this "vacation" couldn't go on forever; the only way Harry could be more prepared was if he mastered his elements completely, but that would take _years_ that they just didn't have.

"Well," he said finally, "I'm glad you like them, especially since we'll probably be seeing more of them in the future." Harry smiled.

"Yeah, I guess we will be," he said thoughtfully, not sounding entirely unhappy about that. He turned his gaze outside to the window. The rain had stopped, and there was a hint of sun peaking out through the clouds; the perfect weather. "Remus, I'm going to go outside and practice," he said calmly. Remus frowned at him.

"Are you sure?" he asked worriedly. "I'll come with you." Harry's _practice_ was almost always volatile; Remus couldn't count the number of times he'd come back with burns all over his arms or broken bones from being blown all over the place.

"No, I can do it without monitoring," Harry said with some exasperation. "I need to practice. You know that Arrian told me I need to do it more often, or I'll never get a grip on my abilities." Remus' frown deepened; he hated letting his cub go knowing that something might go wrong.

"Didn't he also say that you shouldn't practice alone, in case something goes wrong?" he asked suspiciously. Harry waved a hand.

"I can heal, Remus, and it's not like I have enough control over it to do much damage to myself _anyways_." Remus snorted; Harry's definition of damage _clearly_ was different from his own. It saddened him to think why that was. "So please, stop worrying." Harry stood, stretching a little and felt his joints pop in a satisfying way. "Trust me, okay? I'll be fine. If I'm not back in a few hours, you can come check on me, if it makes you feel better."

Remus nodded. "If you're not back in three hours, I'm coming after you," he warned Harry. Harry smiled a little at his worry.

"You're such a mother hen, Remus," he said affectionately. Remus smiled up at him, not offended in the least; he knew himself well enough to realize that he was something of a worrier.

"Only when it comes to you, cub," he murmured, which was both true and not true.

Harry grinned at him. "Oh, I'm sure you'll protect your precious _Severus_ just as much!" he cried and then ran out of the room before Remus could retaliate. Remus was blushing, he could feel the heat on his cheeks, but he smiled and shook his head. He was glad that Harry was getting back to his usual self; it had taken a long, hard year and a lot of talks to get him that open with Remus. Remus was well aware of the façade that Harry sometimes put up; he wasn't sure if it was a Gryffindor thing to put on bravado when you were scared out of your wits, or if it was a Harry thing, but Remus knew that his cub did it all the time. He back-talked and joked and laughed his way through scary situations, because that was how he coped with them. It had taken Remus some time to realize this, and even more time to be able to see the difference between Harry's true happiness and his faked. But as the year passed, the fake-happiness appeared less and less and Remus was getting the feeling that Harry was working past what his relatives had done to him for so long.

Remus heard the door swing closed and sighed. Harry was right about one thing; he _was_ a mother hen. Now he'd spend the next three hours worrying.

* * *

Harry breathed in deeply, almost as if he was meditating. The process was very much the same, when it came to drawing out his powers, except this time he had to go _deep_. Harry had become proficient at the mental arts, thanks to much training and hard work, but accessing the part of himself that controlled the abilities he'd been given was extremely difficult. It had taken him a year to get as far as he had, and he knew it would take more time before he could even attempt to control them fully.

Harry searched for that light, soothing spot that he knew controlled air. Air had come naturally to him; he wasn't exactly sure why. Arrian had tried to explain it; he had said that air was more compliant than fire, giving the elements their own personalities. Harry had discovered that that was true, at least; elements had very _strong_ personalities. But whatever the reason was, air was always the element that he reached for first because it came to him the easiest and took up less of his magic. Then, if he still had energy, he would work on coaxing out fire, which had never been an easy task.

It took him awhile to locate the spot; it felt light and airy and _bright_ in a way that Harry wouldn't possibly be able to describe to anyone that didn't know the feeling. He smiled as he felt it flow over him, covering him, making him feel lighter anything in the world. Concetrating, he focused it down his arms, feeling them tingle as the power flowed through them, and into his hands.

The trick had taken him months to learn and control; the first time he'd tried it, his hands had been in bandages for days thanks to the severe cuts they'd gotten from the mini tornado he'd held in them. Now, after much practice, what he got was a gentle ball of air, moving so slowly and gently that it would be hard to believe that it could ever be dangerous. Harry knew better though; if he concentrated more, he knew that he could condense it and that it would pack a hell of a punch if he decided to ever throw it at someone. But for now, he relaxed at the feeling of warm air on his fingers and bathed in the feeling of using his gift.

It was a hard feeling to explain. Harry supposed that using his gift always made him feel . . . safe, as if nothing could ever harm him again. The closest he could equate it to was how a person would feel with a family member or lover; how he felt with Remus sometimes, when he knew that the older man would take care of him. It was a feeling of love and comfort and warmth; especially welcome after the chaos of the last week and uncertainties it had brought.

Harry relaxed even further and slowly let the ball of air flatten out, the element spreading over his forearms and shoulders like a shield. The trick acted very much like a barrier, stopping all but the heaviest of objects through. Harry was still figuring out how he could block spells with it and how to spread it to the rest of his body; it could prove invaluable in a fight if he could find a way to draw it up quickly. He had several theories on how it could work, but so far he hadn't been able to get any of them to work.

Arrian had warned him that controlling the elements fully was a job that would take years. Harry hadn't taken him seriously until the first time he'd tried to control his abilities, which ended up causing a tornado and burning down half a city block. After that, Harry had been extremely cautious. Arrian had told him proudly that he was a bit of a natural, which helped him along faster than a normal arcàngelo. But still, faster than normal was slow when it came to mastering the elements. Harry often got frustrated with how little progress he was able to make; it was like every time he took one step forward, something would happen to send him three steps backward. In fact, sometimes it reminded him of Potions; in that class he'd always felt like he was never doing _anything_ and that any progress he made was instantly gone. But he knew, in the end, it would be worth it, and that was why he kept coming back to practice and use his gifts.

Harry sighed and let the air dissipate harmlessly into the natural oxygen. He checked himself over and was pleased to see that he was tired but not completely worn out. He still had enough energy to try and harness fire. Harry frowned at the thought; fire had always been more obstinate than air. Fire, in fact, reminded him of Snape at times; prickly and annoying and stubborn to a fault. The only way it could be coaxed out was with patience, which Harry, admittedly, did not have in spades. Still, he tried.

Harry felt for the presence of _fire_ in the back of his mind. It was a warm, glowing ball of light and approaching it made the warmth build in his chest, almost to a painful degree as it tried to warn him away. However, instead of summoning it immediately, Harry managed to draw it out to the surface, bit by bit, allowing fire to accustom itself to his presence. It didn't flow smoothly to his skin like air had; instead it came unevenly, obviously protesting. Harry sighed, but continued on, determined to have a successful practice, no matter how obstinate fire wanted to be.

Eventually he managed to collect enough it to his skin that he could form two small fireballs in the middle of his palms. The fire seeped through his skin, yet it never burned him; something that Harry had found endlessly fascinating the first time he'd noticed it. Arrian had explained that even if fire was a prickly element it would never hurt its user by burning him unless it was really angry at him. Harry had made a mental note to never upset fire.

Harry smiled at the fireballs with a bit of affection. Even if it was a difficult element to maintain, there was something quite nice about fire. He found that he was always as affectionate with it as he was with air, no matter how long it took him to draw it out or now prickly it had decided to be that day. Quietly, he let the fire dwindle and go out, the small amount of element he'd gathered trickling back to the original source. Harry leaned back on his hands, stretching his legs, which had fallen asleep during the – Harry checked his watch – two and a half hours he'd been out. Pins and needles raced down his calves and thighs and Harry patiently waited for the feeling to return before he got to his feet, wavering slightly at the rush of light-headedness that followed. Soon, however, he was good to go and he made his way carefully back to the house. He was exponentially tired; no doubt he would need to take a long nap to recover. But still, it had been worth it. With every practice session, he was that much closer to being in complete control of his elements, which meant that he was that much closer to being prepared for . . . well, for everything back home.

* * *

Harry was frowning as he sat at the Cullen table the next day at lunch. Edward couldn't help but notice; he seemed to notice everything about Harry. It was a bit disconcerting how he could pick up such little details about a person he'd just met and spent little to no time with; in fact, Edward was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with how attuned he was becoming to Harry. He knew that the monster that dwelled in the back of his head relished it, but mostly he was just perplexed by it.

"What did your father say?" Alice said, even though she already knew the answer. Her vision and the knowing smile she'd worn last night when they'd been talking together had told him all he needed to know.

Harry's frown deepened and Edward stifled the irrational urge to berate Alice. He almost felt like frowning himself. _'What is wrong with me?'_ he wondered. Harry's blood smelled absolutely divine, there was no lying about that, but surely it wouldn't have such an effect on him? Harry was beautiful, yes, but Edward hadn't lusted after anyone for one hundred years. If he'd ever wanted just beauty, Rosalie would have done it for him like Carlisle had hoped. There had to be something else driving him . . . perhaps it had to do with this "something else" that Harry was.

". . . . permission to tell you," Harry was saying as Edward re-tuned in the conversation. The amused glances of his siblings told him that they'd noticed his lapse of attention. "But I want to do it somewhere more private than a lunchroom . . . ." Harry glanced over his shoulder at the dozens of students milling the room, some of them staring obnoxiously at the group in the corner. Edward's lip twitched as a frustrated and exasperated look crossed Harry's face as he turned back towards them. "I should also inform your father and any other member of your clan," he added calmly.

The Cullens exchanged looks.

_'Can he be trusted with Esme?'_ Jasper's thoughts whispered across his brain and Edward gave a small, nearly invisible nod. Rosalie, catching the movement, frowned.

_'I don't trust him,'_ she thought to Edward. _'You shouldn't either.'_

Edward frowned at her but she just glared.

"You know what's really annoying?" Harry asked randomly. "When people talk about you, right there in front of your face, and you _can't even bloody hear them_." He was glaring at Edward. Alice giggled.

"Oh, don't worry, Harrikins, we won't do it again," she cooed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Will we Eddie?" Edward smirked.

"Oh I don't know, Alice," he drawled. Anger and indignation looked good on Harry; it made him look, dare Edward say it, _cute_. "I rather _like_ doing it."

Bright green eyes narrowed at him further. "Have I passed whatever mental test you three were putting me through?" he asked, shooting looks at Rosalie, Jasper and Edward. Edward was just surprised that Harry had managed to figure out who'd been "speaking" to him. "Can I come see this Carlisle of yours?"

"We have another member," Alice informed him quietly. "Carlisle's mate, our mother; Esme."

Harry's look softened. "Oh," he said softly. "I see. Well, is it alright if I come visit your Carlisle and Esme after school today?" he asked, this time very gently. Edward exchanged a bewildered look with Emmett; he had no idea what had softened Harry's behavior. Alice, however, seem unperturbed this personality switch and excitedly told Harry the directions to their house.

"I'll go there after school then," Harry said, listening to her carefully. Emmett grinned.

"You could just ride with us," he said.

Harry scowled at him. "There's no way I'm leaving my car here," he grumbled. Edward's lip twitched and Alice giggled. Rosalie, however, tossed her hair.

"That old piece of junk isn't worth much anyhow," she drawled.

"I'm surprised you even had time to realize what car was mine," Harry said mildly. "After all, your time is so full being arrogant it's hard to get anything else done, isn't it?" Rosalie glared at him, but Emmett's grin had widened. Edward had decided a long time ago that Emmett was a machoist (hell, anyone with Rosalie _had_ to be) and knew that his brother was getting a kick out of seeing his wife being verbally sliced by a kid half her size and age.

"Yes well, it's hard not to notice something that explodes every time it goes near you," Rosalie said dryly. "I hope you plan on getting that fixed."

"You offering?" Harry asked with a wry smile. Rosalie sniffed, even though her eyes lit up with some interest. Edward smiled; very few people knew that Rosalie liked to work on cars. It would ruin her bitch princess façade if they did.

"Not a chance," she said sniffily, feigning disinterest.

Harry laughed. "Whatever you say about it, I like my car," he said fondly. "I got it from Billy Black. I'm sure you know him." Intense green eyes turned to Edward for a moment and the vampire tensed. However the look passed as soon as it had come and Harry was now looking at Alice.

"Yes, we . . . _know_ them," his sister said dryly, amusement in her eyes. Rosalie looked disgusted.

"More like we despise them," she muttered.

"They're not even werewolves," Harry said calmly.

"They're worse," Rosalie told him. "They're _shapeshifters_. Werewolves are like us; creatures of a disease, hybrids almost. Shapeshifters are . . . _different_." Edward was surprised she'd bothered to explain; he wondered if she was warming up to Harry or if she just didn't want him to run around with misconceptions about vampires.

"I know," Harry admitted. "I ran across a few of them."

"Where did you travel, anyways?" Alice said, leaning forward in her seat, curiosity in her expression. Alice had been to very few places in her life; some sites along America and she'd been to England once, but never anywhere else. Edward knew that one day she wanted to travel further and she was very curious about what the rest of the world was like.

"A lot of places," Harry said, his expression closing up. Alice eyed him thoughtfully.

"How can you do it?" Jasper interrupted abruptly. Harry's eyebrow rose; Jasper hadn't spoken to him yet.

"Do what?" he asked, meeting the blond's eyes head-on.

Jasper frowned. "You block your emotions," he said in a stilted tone. "How?"

"It comes with the Occlumency package," Harry said wryly, his eyes darting towards Edward. Edward scowled; he _hated_ that he couldn't read Harry's mind. It was an ability he'd had for a hundred years and so far there had been no one whose mind he couldn't get into; until Harry. What made it even more frustrating was that Harry's was the one mind that he was actually longing to read. "It doesn't just shield my thoughts; it shields my emotions."

Jasper looked intrigued. "Is there . . . anyway you could teach me this skill?" he asked hopefully. "Can it block out emotions as well?"

Harry gave him a long look. "You sense emotions then, huh?" he asked softly. Jasper nodded and Harry gave him a smile. "Well, I can tell you with certainty that it does block out emotions."

Rosalie sneered at him. "How can you know that?" Harry gave her an amused look and Edward wondered if he'd dealt with snobbishness on a daily basis due to how quickly he'd become accustomed to his sister's attitude. Most people would've been put off by it by now; instead, Harry just smiled and shot a barb back.

"I can sense emotions too," he said, watching with amusement as the vampires showed various degrees of shock. "I use this technique myself to keep other's emotions at bay. We call the gift empathy."

"Have you always had it?" Jasper asked quietly. Harry shook his head.

"No," he said sadly. "I got it only recently . . . and it's tied in with my creature inheritance. I'll explain everything this afternoon; no use in having to do it twice. But I can tell you, it does work. I'd be happy to teach it to you." He gave Jasper a sweet, sad smile. "Human emotions are bad enough to deal with when they're your own, let alone when they belong to others."

Jasper nodded in silent agreement. Edward eyed Harry contemplatively and he had to wonder; what had happened to the boy that had put that world-weary tone in his voice? Edward didn't know why he cared; 100 years and he'd never given much thought to a human or any other person outside of his family. He'd been anti-social when _he_ had been a human as well, keeping clear of other kids and teens. Edward just hadn't been wired as a social creature. Yet there was something about Harry that just kept . . . pulling him in.

Edward was determined to figure it out.

* * *

The Cullen home was a beautiful place, in Harry's opinion.

After years of being locked in a cupboard, Harry had never been very fond of small, enclosed spaces. He wasn't claustrophobic, because no matter how indignant Remus and Poppy got on his behalf his cupboard had never really seemed that small to him. But after years of being punished by being locked into a cupboard his subconscious had started to associate dark and small and enclosed with bad. He liked homes that were airy and open, with high ceilings and a lot of windows; much like the Cullen home.

Harry was almost surprised that the vampires lived in such a place. Of course, he wasn't a muggle, so he was well aware that vampires didn't sleep in coffins (they didn't sleep _at all_, of course) and that they were no more afraid of sunlight than a human, unless it started to reveal their identity (in the case that they were hiding it). But still, he found that he'd almost been half-expected some old-fashioned home with boarded up windows. Instead he found in front of him, a modern home that looked about as open as it could get. Harry had to admit that it was a good defense; how could anyone assume that these people had anything to hide when their house was so inviting?

Harry walked up the steps, grimacing as he watched the flashy red Corvette pull into the garage. It was a beautiful car, he could admit, but Harry had never really liked _flashy_ and had come to despise it after a year of living on the run and needing to blend in as much as possible. He was quite alright with his trusty old truck, whatever Rosalie said about it. He watched as the Cullen siblings came out of the garage door, heading towards him. They were behind him in a moment and Emmett opened the door, admitting them inside the house. Harry hesitated for a moment, and to his surprise, Alice took him by the hand, leading him through the living room and into the kitchen, where two more vampires were waiting. Harry's breath caught.

Carlisle and Esme Cullen were certainly a stunning couple, he thought, shaking their allure off of him after a moment of awe. Carlisle was a tall, slender man with golden hair and eyes and a strong, beautiful face. Esme was delicate and petite, much like Alice, and there was a certain warmth to her features that was absent in every other vampire that made her _look_ like a mother. Her eyes were golden as well, but they were dark enough to hint at amber.

"You must be Harry!" she cried and, to Harry's surprise, immediately swept him into a hug. Harry shivered; her arms were icy cold even to humans, and with Harry's sensitivity to temperatures, she was downright freezing. "We've heard much about you," she added, pulling away to look him up and down. She frowned. "You're much too thin," she told him. Harry scowled; he'd been told that by every female figure he'd ever had in his life, except for Aunt Petunia. Her features brightened with a smile. "I suppose that means I'll have to feed you!" She seemed delighted by the prospect and immediately set to bustling about the kitchen.

Alice, giggling a bit, leaned over to whisper to Harry. "We don't eat human food, so Esme hasn't had someone to cook for in a long time," she said. "I think you've just made her very happy."

Esme laughed; in such an enclosed space full of vampires anything they said would be heard, whether it was whispered or not. Carlisle, smiling slightly, stepped forward.

"It's nice to meet you Harry," he said smoothly, taking one of Harry's hands in his own and Harry hid the wince that the cold sensation caused. He could only hope that they didn't think he was wincing for other reasons. "I hope you don't mind staying for dinner," he added ironically, a wry smile playing on the edge of his lips.

Harry chuckled. "Not at all," he murmured. "It's nice to meet you both. Reading about someone just isn't the same as meeting them in person."

Carlisle's eyes sharpened and he tensed. "Reading?"

"Well not as much about Esme . . . But you feature in some books, Carlisle," Harry said, wondering if he'd known he featured in many wizarding books. "They mention that you lead a group of "rogue" vampires who eat only animals and have forsaken preying on humans."

"That's the truth," Carlisle said, relaxing. Harry laughed.

"I'm glad it is; some books tend to bend it a little sometimes. If you'd been feeding on humans I might have had to do something about it and that wasn't something I'd want to do." He frowned at that thought.

Rosalie, who was standing next to him, sneered. "What could you do?" she asked bitingly. Harry gave her a look.

"Oh, this and that," he said dryly, wondering what they'd think if he told them _exactly_ who he was. He wondered if any of them, except Carlisle, would even be aware of who was in their midst. After all, outside of the wizarding world, Harry Potter wasn't much of a famous name. It was one of the reasons Harry liked the muggle world better than the wizarding one.

Carlisle was looking at him contemplatively, but he smiled and the look slid away. "Now, shall we all sit down while we wait for Esme to finish the food? My children have been telling me about you and I must admit I'd like to learn more about the mystery." He led them out of the kitchen and into the beautiful living room that Harry had only glimpsed earlier.

Harry blushed slightly. "I'm not a mystery," he muttered, annoyed and pleased at being thought to be one. He didn't personally want to be mysterious, but when on the run it was a good idea to be. Emmett laughed.

"Aw, he's shy!" he said, and reached out to muss Harry's hair. Harry ducked under the hand and scowled at the large vampire, making him laugh more. "You _are_ a mystery kiddo. A mystery wrapped inside a puzzle wrapped inside a riddle wrapped inside an . . . enigma!"

"Enigma, Emmett, what a big word!" Alice said, chuckling at her brother's pride at having thought of the word in the first place. Emmett pouted.

"I can think of big words too," he muttered. Rosalie smiled for the first time Harry had known her and patted Emmett's hand soothingly.

"Sure you can, honey," she said, obviously soothing his ruffled feathers. However, it seemed to work on Emmett, because he straightened out of his sulking pose and gave Rosalie a smile.

"Please ignore my errant children," Esme said, reappearing in the living room. Harry blinked when he saw the very large sandwich on a plate in her hands. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to eat that monsterous thing. "Sometimes they forgot how to . . . act their age. Here you are," she presented him with the sandwich. Harry took it is hands and nibbled at the edge, unable to take a single bite of it, a little bemused to be eaten something prepared by a vampire. Didn't Hermione and Ron always tell him how he fell into strange situations?

He felt odd being the only one eating, but the vampires in the room just conversed among themselves while he tried to finish the sandwich. In the end, he couldn't eat the entire thing and set it aside mostly finished, feeling a little guilty as he looked at the leftovers. As soon as he set the plate aside, Carlisle leaned forward, eyes focused on his face and all playfulness swept aside in the wake of the serious conversation to come.

"So, _Harry_," he said. "Will you explain to us what you are?"

"You already know that I'm a wizard, right?" Harry asked, settling back into the couch. Carlisle nodded.

"My children have informed me of that," he admitted. Harry nodded.

"Have you ever heard of _arcàngelo_?" he asked, prepared to have to explain it to them. He blinked in surprise as the vampires gasped in unison. "I'm guessing you have?" He quirked at eyebrow at Carlisle, who looked shocked.

"Arcàngelo?" Carlisle whispered, handling the foreign word flawlessly. "That's what you are?" His shock was evolving into curiosity and something that Harry looked a little bit like awe.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged, uneasy with the way they were looking at him. "What?" he snapped.

"They're so rare!" Alice said with delight. She didn't look as surprised as the rest of her family, but Harry found that was usually the way of things with Alice.

"Are you _sure_ you're arcàngelo?" Rosalie asked suspiciously. "Where are your wings?" Harry scowled at her implication that he didn't know _exactly_ what he was.

"Well I wouldn't fit in with muggles if I had bloody wings now would I?" Harry said irritably. He stood from the couch and concentrated. Even after a year of getting his wings, there was the slightest edge of pain when they came out of his body. Thankfully, it was nothing compared to the initial transformation and Harry barely felt it most of the time. He heard all of the vampires gasp again as they took in his large black wings. Harry opened his eyes and hoped that he hadn't broken anything with his recklessness. It really was better to do demonstrations outside of the house. It was too bad it was almost always raining, or he might've been able to do so.

"Proof enough for you?" Harry challenged. Rosalie's surprised look slid to one of annoyance.

"What about your tattoos?" she demanded, lips pursed. Harry sighed with aggravation. He waved a hand over his face, revealing the detailed tattoo that he had hidden there and then un-buttoned the shirt he had on, revealing the element tattoos spiraling down his chest. A low growl from Edward got his attention and he frowned at the vampire, who was staring at his body, eyes dark.

"What?" he snapped at Edward. Dark gold eyes snapped up to meet his own with surprise and something else hidden in their depths. "Never seen a half-naked boy before?" He gave Edward a flat, unimpressed look and the vampire's eyes lightened back to their normal honey hue with a sparkle of amusement in them. Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to the entire family; they all looked a bit amused by his interaction with Edward and fascinated by his tattoos.

"You have two," Carlisle murmured, eyeing the designs on his chest closely. "I've read of the element tattoos, but usually isn't there usually only one?"

Harry shrugged and re-buttoned his shirt, ignoring the sigh from Edward, who was acting very strange today. "I control two elements, fire and air, so I needed two tattoos."

Carlisle blinked. "Isn't that unusual?" he asked with genuine curiosity. "Not to mention difficult? Controlling one element is very hard, isn't two even more so?"

Harry smiled; Carlisle reminded him a bit of Hermione with his curiosity. "Yeah, it's hard." He grimaced. "It's taken me a year to get even the smallest bit of control over them. Fire especially. The bloody bugger," he muttered, but muttering didn't matter much in a room full of vampires.

"Fire is troublesome, is it?" Carlisle asked in amusement. Harry nodded.

"It doesn't listen to me at all," he explained grumpily. "Anyways; does that prove my heritage enough for _all_ of you?" He glared at Rosalie who just gave a haughty sniff in his direction. He rolled his eyes at her attitude; she reminded him very much of Malfoy, which wasn't really a good thing.

"How did you come to be arcàngelo?" Carlisle asked with interest as Harry re-seated himself, drawing his wings back into his body so he could do so. "They're an extremely rare creature, as far as I'm aware."

"According to Arrian, my mother was arcàngelo but it usually skips a generation when it comes to females. I got the gene from her." Harry smiled sadly.

"Arrian?" Carlisle asked, head tilting to the side in a completely human gesture. "Who is that? Another arcàngelo?"

"I suppose you could call him my mentor," Harry mused. "He _is_ arcàngelo, but . . . he's dead. He's sort of a . . . spirit guide, to help me with arcàngelo problems until I get a mate." Harry frowned.

"A mate?" Alice asked with a small, sly grin on her face. Her eyes darted over to Edward and Harry looked at her in confusion.

"Yes," he said patiently. "I will have to choose a mate eventually."

"Any candidates in mind?" Alice looked positively devious now. Harry's frown deepened when he heard a growl and turned to see Edward staring at Alice with a furious look in his eyes. _'Is he normally this moody?'_ he thought, eyeing the angry vampire. He knew that Edward was a little more volatile than most of his siblings, but this growling out of nowhere with no reason was starting to get ridiculous.

"What is it with you and growling?" Harry asked in exasperation. Edward blinked and then looked at himself in surprise, as if he hadn't realized he'd been doing it.

"I don't know," he murmured, frown on his face.

"Well, it's annoying," Harry muttered and he heard Emmett and Alice stifle laughter. Edward scowled at him, but there was amusement in his eyes as well.

"I'll do my best to stop then," he said, and Harry wondered if vampires were supposed to roll their eyes. It really didn't seem like a vampire-y thing to do, in his esteemed opinion. Harry huffed and turned back to the leader of the coven.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" he asked Carlisle, hoping that the questions would dwindle soon.

"You don't mean any harm to my family." Carlisle made it more of a statement than a question.

"No," Harry said firmly. "I didn't know you lived here until we came here. All I want is some peace and quiet; I don't plan on hurting your family, especially since you're not eating humans."

"Good," Carlisle said. He paused and then asked, "What about your father, though?"

Harry tensed and eyed the vampire a little hostilely. "What about him?" he asked, being deliberately obtuse.

"My children have told me that he's a werewolf," Carlisle explained patiently. "Is he like the Quileute tribe or is he a true werewolf?"

Harry watched Carlisle for a long moment before answering. When it came to questions about himself, he was willing to answer, but when it came to Remus he was a bit more cautious about what information he gave out. "He's a true werewolf," Harry acknowledged hesitantly. "He's friends with Billy Black, though. I'm sure they'll run together during the Full Moon."

"He doesn't object to you . . . fraternizing with the enemy?" Carlisle asked, sounding a bit surprised. Harry laughed at the idea of _Remus_ doing such a thing.

"R-Faolan?" he said incredulously. "He's the most open-minded person I know. Unless you're trying to kill me or him, then he doesn't care if I "fraternize" with you." Carlisle nodded, a thoughtful look in his golden eyes.

"Well then," Carlisle said with a pleased smile, and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose everything's settled then. Would you like to stay and visit with us for a while or do you have other obligations?" He easy smile told Harry that he didn't mind either situation. Harry inclined his head and stood.

"I do have somewhere to be," he said apologetically. "But I'm glad we got to talk. Best not to get on the bad side of vampires," he added with a small chuckle. Carlisle rose to his feet fluidly.

"I hope to meet your father someday," he said, pressing Harry's hand into his own cold one. "He sounds like an interesting man."

"I'm sure he'd be fascinated by you," Harry murmured, thinking of Remus' reaction to this strange, golden vampire who could treat human patients without going crazy for blood. "I'll ask if he wants to come over sometime."

"Perhaps we could drop by your residence?" Carlisle asked politely.

Harry blinked; that problem hadn't occurred to him yet. "Well you can't, really," he said awkwardly. "We warded it against magical creatures and wizards seeing it . . . . Remus fixed it so that muggles can see it, but that's really about it. But do you have any paper and a pen?" Carlisle drew out a pen and handed Harry an old receipt that was in his pocket. "I'm one of the secret keepers, so I can do this . . . ." He wrote rapidly on the paper and handed it to Carlisle.

_Harry and Faolan Moon reside at 122 Oak Road, Forks, WA._

Harry was glad that they'd put so much research into the Fidileous charm in China; usually when you revealed the secret you _had_ to use the real names of the people being hidden. However, they'd managed to work their way around it so that they could write down either their fake names or their real names if they revealed it. Harry was extremely glad of that; explaining why it said, _Harry Potter and Remus Lupin_ might have made this entire thing a little awkward.

Harry made sure that the message was passed around to all of the vampires before he burned it. The Cullen's all looked a little confused and curious.

"You'll be able to see the house now," Harry explained. "And I can let you inside without having to do this again. Anytime you want to visit, all you have to do is knock." Harry grinned, and the mischievous side of him that was normally buried surfaced. "And now I bid you all . . . _adieu_," he said, and disapparated with a crack. If he'd stayed, he would've laughed to see the looks on the Cullen's faces.

* * *

"So everything went well?" Remus asked idly as they sat on couches, watching the moon rise. It was almost full; Harry knew that soon they'd be working through yet another full moon. He winced at the thought; he could only hope that this time he'd have Billy Black to help him with Remus.

"As far as I can tell," he answered with a shrug. "They know I don't plan to hurt them, and I don't think they plan to hurt me so . . . we can co-exist now peacefully."

"And their leader wants to meet me, hm?" Remus asked, looking a little amused and a little intrigued.

Harry smiled. "He said so. Carlisle reminds me a lot of Hermione, actually. He seems so curious about everything." Harry was silent for a long moment, staring out the window. "Do you think I should write them?" he asked, almost inaudibly.

Remus had no trouble hearing him. "Ron and Hermione, you mean?" he asked carefully. His best friends had always been a touchy subject for Harry; he'd hated leaving them behind, but had little other choice, and these longs months that had gone by without writing to them had taken their toll on him.

"Neville and Luna too," Harry admitted. "They've been such good friends . . . and I haven't written them in a year. I miss them, Remus." His voice was full of longing. "I miss them so badly that sometimes I just want to go _home_."

"You know that we can any time Harry," Remus told him quietly and intensely. Harry snorted.

"I'm not ready. We both know that," he said. Remus almost disagreed, but decided to stay quiet. "But sometimes, I wish I was. I just . . . want this to be _over_ Remus, you know? I want to live without having to hide and run and leave all the time. And even if we went back home, it'd still be like that. There won't be any end to it until Voldy is dead and the world doesn't need a hero anymore."

Remus took in Harry's weary eyes and carefully slid next to him on the couch, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I think you should write them," he said. Harry looked up at him. "I know that it's dangerous," he elaborated, "but now that Severus is helping us, it's possible to get a letter to them without owl use. And . . . you _need_ them Harry. I'm trying, but you need _friends_. If writing to them will help you manage your stress better, then of course I say you should."

Harry smiled, and it was so bright it lit up his entire face. Remus felt something in his heart ache at the sight of it; when he smiled like that, Harry Potter looked as normal and happy as any teenager should be. It almost made Remus forget Harry's dark future and even darker past.

"Thank you, Remus!" he said, grabbing his guardian in a tight hug before rising from the couch. "I'm going to start it right now!" he said, eyes bright with enthusiasm as he headed for the stairs. "I can give it to Snape when he comes to collect the feathers!"

"Professor Snape!" Remus called after him, and smiled as Harry just snorted and disappeared up the stairs.

Remus sighed and leaned back in the couch. He should've let Harry write his friends a long time ago; after all, he acted older than his years, but he was only a teenager, and teenagers needed friends. But he'd been so afraid in the last year; afraid that Dumbledore would find the letter and then Harry would be taken away from him and set to a task that both of them knew he wasn't yet ready to do. He'd wanted to just keep Harry _safe_.

But, Remus realized, that safety shouldn't come at the cost of his happiness. Running away from their homes when they were found was something they couldn't avoid; exchanging letters with his friends back home was another matter, especially now that they had Severus to act as a go-between. Remus didn't want to become another Dumbledore; so caught up in trying to "protect" that he ignored Harry's happiness as a result. He wouldn't go down that road.

Remus absently wondered what the Cullen family would come to mean in all of this. He'd been bound by the strings of Fate too often to think that meeting a vampire family in the middle of nowhere was the effects of _coincidence_. They would be important in the time to come; Remus was sure of it. He hoped that they would befriend Harry; letters were better than nothing, but companionship was the best of all. Remus smiled as he imagined the wizarding world's reaction to Harry Potter cozying up with a bunch of vampires, even if they _were_ vegetarian; likely, they'd all throw a gigantic hissy fit and demand their savior be removed from the pit of evil, or some such nonsense as that. Remus wondered if Harry realized that if they were still in Forks during his mating cycle, one of those vampires would be the prime choice for Harry; they were the only magical creatures besides the Tribes that lived in Forks, and no shapeshifter could compete with a vampire in terms of magical energy.

He supposed that he would have to hope that they would be gone by then; all of the vampires except for a certain Edward Cullen were already mated, and it seemed that Harry wasn't that fond of Edward. Remus only hoped that they could avoid disaster if Harry's inner creature decided on one of the Cullens to mate with; certainly, he didn't see it ending well, even if Harry picked Edward. Only Merlin knew how the wizarding world would react or, God forbid, the _Volturi_. The Volturi had hated arcàngelo for centuries because of a feud that no one could remember the beginnings of. Remus had never found any lore on the subject, but he suspected that it had been simple jealousy; after all, arcàngelo weren't exactly revered, but they were treated a hell of a lot better than vampires and even werewolves.

Remus sighed; he could only hope that he wouldn't have to deal with these problems. He already had more than enough on his plate. His eyes flickered to the nearly-full moon and, for a moment, his eyes gleamed gold.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Uhm, sorry? Sorry, sorry, sorry? Did I mention I was sorry? Because I really am. Sorry, that is. Because it's been about 9 months since I last updated, and I really have no reason for it and I suck because of that. So sorry again. But look – you get two chapters! Yey!


	8. Chapter Six: The Full Moon

**Author's Note:** Yey for two chapters in one!

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter Six: The Full Moon**

Trust is the glue of life. It's the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It's the foundational principle that holds all relationships. (Stephen R. Covey)

It has been said, "time heals all wounds". I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone (Rose Kennedy)

The language of friendship is not words but meanings. (Henry David Thoreau)

To be whole. To be complete. Wildness reminds us what it means to be human, what we are connected to rather than what we are separate from. (Terry Tempest)

* * *

**September 19****th****, 1997  
****Forks, Washington**

The full moon was coming soon.

Remus could feel it coming upon him. It wasn't just that his senses sharpened and his emotions grew less controlled, but that he could literally feel the moon coming, as if it were a weight on his mind instead of an object in the sky. It was a strange sensation, but Remus had gotten used to it after feeling it so often in his life. There was nothing about being a werewolf that could confuse him anymore, after spending three-fourths of his life as one.

He paced restlessly in the living room, hands twitching in agitation. He always felt restless during this time of the month; he was barely able to sleep, or concentrate on anything.

"Remus?" Harry's voice called from the kitchen. "What meat do you want tonight?"

"Whatever we have, cub," Remus called back.

He smiled to himself. Harry had dealt with many full moons with him before, and he knew exactly what to do to make Remus comfortable during this time. Remus was always thankful to him for that. It was the time before the moon that was the most uncomfortable to him, now that he and his inner wolf had bonded. There was always a scratchy feeling beneath his skin, as if something were ready to burst out of him but had gotten stuck half-way through. It made Remus want to itch all over, but no matter how many times he scratched it never stopped.

Remus scowled slightly before sighing and turning to enter the kitchen. His restlessness couldn't be solved by thinking; he might as well see what Harry was doing. He entered the bright room and was amused to see his cub standing at the oven with an apron tied around his body.

"What're you making, cub?" Remus said, approaching from behind to peer over Harry's shoulder.

Harry turned his head and looked at Remus with a slight smile. "Chicken and bacon sandwiches," he said. "It's all the meat we'll have until I go to the store tomorrow."

"That sounds good," Remus said, his nose twitching slightly. Harry's lip quirked at the sight before he turned around, going back to making his excellent bacon.

"It should be done in a few minutes," he said. "Now why don't you be a good doggy and set the table?" Remus didn't need to see Harry's face to realize that his cub was wearing a mischievous smile. Remus mock-sighed.

"Ah, the work of the underdog!" he said mournfully and then had to dodge Harry's swipe at his head with the spatula. "Alright, cub, I'm going. No need to get violent." He held up his hands in mock-surrender and backed away facing forward, eyeing the spatula in Harry's hand warily. Harry laughed.

"Off with you, you rascal!" he cried, waving the spatula, before he turned back to his bacon. Remus chuckled softly before he turned to get the plates from the cupboard. He also grabbed their plastic forks and spoons; an alternative to silverware that Remus had found a few years back. Before that, he'd been eating with the golden silverware that he'd swiped years ago from Hogwarts.

Remus set the table and then slipped easily into his seat, waiting for Harry to finish. It had been decided when they first started living together that whenever there was cooking to be done, Harry would be the one to do it, for the most part. Remus only helped out every once in a while, mostly because while his own cooking skills were decent, Harry's were extraordinary. Perhaps it came from years of practice, or some innate talent for what tasted good in food, but Remus personally thought that Harry would make an excellent chef if he ever decided to go into the food business.

Remus smiled when the scent of baked meat wafted into his nose. Minutes later, Harry arrived in the doorway, two plates filled with meat in his hands. He set them down next to the plain rolls he'd put out earlier (more for Harry than for Remus; when the full moon came by, he tended to avoid anything that wasn't meat). Then he slid into the chair next to Remus', smiling at his guardian as he did so.

"Ready to eat?" he asked. Remus nodded quickly, mouth watering at the exquisite scent the food was giving off.

They filled their plates and ate quietly for quite some time. Neither was big on talking during meal-times; they both liked to focus on their food instead of splitting their attention between conversation and eating. So it was only when they were mostly finished that Harry spoke up.

"Remus, are you going to be alright for this moon?" he asked, green eyes worried. Remus looked over at his cub with surprise.

"What do you mean?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"Well, with the shapeshifters and everything . . . will they scent you and attack? Or will they think of you as 'pack'?"

Remus tilted his head. "They won't attack me," he said. "I've gone through a moon with them before."

"Which brings me to another question," Harry said, leaning forward and placing his hands under his chin. "How did you get to know them? When did you live here, Remus?"

Remus was silent for so long that Harry considered taking back the question. Before he could do it, however, his guardian spoke. "I lived here for three months the third year after the fall of Voldemort," he said. "I was travelling for most of those years, like we're doing now, in fact. Forks was the place that I stayed the longest in. That was mostly because of Billy and the shapeshifters. They helped me come to terms with many things in my life. I'll be glad to run with them again."

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry to bring it up," he said a little sheepishly. "It's just my curiosity—"

"Got the better of you, I know," Remus said with a gentle smile. "After all, how many times did it happen at Hogwarts? A hundred or two?"

"More like a thousand," Harry said with a gentle laugh. Remus was relieved that his cub didn't blow up at the mention of his beloved school; it had taken several months before he could react calmly to memories of Hogwarts.

"But enough about me," he said. "I'm more worried about you. You know the full moon is never easy for you."

Harry sighed. "I'll bear it, as always Remus. Besides, the weakness doesn't come until the peak of the full moon, unlike your werewolf transformation. I'll just have to miss school that day, I guess . . . . But I should be fine."

Remus sighed. "I'll be with you during the day, at least. It's the night I'm worried about. At least in Japan we had Takashi to look after you, and in China there was Kao. They made sure nothing happened to you. But now, you'll be on your own. I don't want you to be alone," he added, frowning.

Harry frowned. "I _can_ look after myself, Remus," he stressed. "I've been doing it for a while, you know."

"Yes, I know," Remus said with a sigh. "But it makes me worry when you're in that state and all alone. But there's nothing to be—wait! Maybe we could ask Severus to stay with you!"

Harry blinked in shock. "No way, Remus! He said he'd come back in two weeks – he won't want to be called on to babysit me! Plus, it'd be pretty noticeable if he just disappeared for a night!"

"We can think up some excuse," Remus said, looking excited at this new prospect. Harry groaned. When Remus was determined about something, there was little stopping him. Harry had learned that the hard way. He winced at the memory of it. "It'll be perfect! Severus can learn more about arcàngelo, and you can have someone to look after you." Remus gave Harry a look. "I know that you can look after yourself, but you must know it'd be easier to ride out the nausea and fever if you have someone to nurse you through it."

"I can hardly imagine Snape nursing anyone," Harry said, but there was a ring of resignation is his tone that let Remus know he'd have his way. With a delighted sparkle in his eye, Remus leapt up from the table.

"I'll go contact him now. This will work out wonderfully Harry, you'll see!"

Harry sighed as he watched Remus hurry away. "One part of being an arcàngelo that's not so nice is getting this monthly weakness," he muttered to himself. "Why do I have to have an overprotective guardian? And why does he have to be in love with Snape?" Because no matter what Remus told himself, Harry was fairly certain that his guardian was head over heels for the Potions professor.

No matter how civil Snape was acting towards him, Harry had no doubt the Professor would be annoyed at being asked to play baby-sitter. In fact, he very much doubted the other man would agree to do it. That made him perk up a bit; there was still hope that Snape would refuse and Harry wouldn't have to deal with a caretaker. He could admit that the fever and nausea that came along with his monthly weak time was a pain in the ass and usually it helped when someone was there to help him through the pain, but Snape wasn't the sort of person he could imagine doing that. If there was one thing Harry didn't want to deal with while he was wracked with pain, it was Snape's snarky comments.

Harry sighed. All he could hope was that Snape would say no, and that would be the end of it. With that thought in mind he returned his attention to the meat on his plate.

* * *

Forks had an extremely lively lunchtime. Harry was used to rowdiness at lunch – Hogwarts had its fair share of it – but this was to an extreme that even he couldn't fathom. He now felt lucky to be sitting with the Cullens; as far as he could tell, they were the only table not throwing things, swearing at each other, or generally making as much of a ruckus as possible. However, he still felt somewhat uncomfortable around them. It wasn't them personally, but more that being around anybody he didn't really know made him somewhat nervous. Even that first day he'd talked to them, he'd been scared batshit over doing it. But it was Harry's way to rough out the things that scared him with a smile and pleasant attitude, so he'd adopted that expression and stuck with it, even when he was terrified. It had worked well for him at Hogwarts, and continued to work well for him when at Forks.

"So, Harry, what do you think of Forks, now that you've settled in?" Alice asked, smiling pleasantly. Out of all of them, Harry thought he liked Alice the best. Although, he liked most of them well-enough, even Rosalie, when she wasn't being snobby (which wasn't very often, he had to admit). Jasper was quiet but funny and kind and Emmett was gruff in a loving sort of way. Edward, when he wasn't trying to peek into Harry's mind (like he couldn't tell!) was nice as well.

"It's very . . . wet," he said diplomatically, with a straight-face. Alice laughed; the sound drew the attention of everyone sitting nearby them. Harry couldn't blame them; Alice had a tinkling, light laugh that drew you in as soon as you heard it. He wondered if it was a vampire thing.

"It is," she agreed, eyes sparkling.

"But it's pretty too," Harry added, sitting back in his chair comfortably. "So that makes up for the wetness."

"I think I agree with that," Alice said, her eyes still laughing. After a moment, her face grew serious. "By the way, I was wondering about your adopted father."

Harry tensed. "What about him?" he asked. It made him just a little uncomfortable that they even knew about Remus; Harry had little other family than the werewolf and if anything were to happen to him, Harry had no doubt that he'd lose himself. Having _anyone_ know about Remus was enough to make him antsy.

"He's a true werewolf, isn't he?" Alice asked, voice pitched low enough that no one heard them besides the people at the table. "Doesn't that mean he changes this weekend?"

Harry grimaced. "Yeah," he admitted. "It's a three-day process, actually. The full moon and the day before and after it are when he changes."

"Is he planning on running with the shapeshifters?" Jasper asked, looking more pained than usual. Harry was just impressed with his control; he knew that if he craved blood, being in a high school full of humans couldn't be an easy feat.

"Yeah," Harry answered, nodding. "He's friends with Billy Black; Faolan says they've run together before."

"So they'll know what to expect then," Edward broke in musingly. Harry shrugged.

"I guess," he said. "It's not that difficult to get used to, to be honest."

Edward gave him a look, and then his eyes narrowed. "Where exactly will _you _be during this full moon?" he asked. Harry stared at him in confusion.

"Well on Friday and Sunday I plan on running with Faolan," he said in confusion. "I can't do it on Saturday, unfortunately," he added, blushing a bit. Alice, looking intrigued, looked ready to ask about that, but Edward interrupted her.

"What do you mean _run_ with him?" he demanded. "Isn't he dangerous as a werewolf?"

Harry's eyes narrowed further. "Aren't you dangerous right now?" he challenged and Edward blinked, looking paler than normal. Harry watched him for a moment before sighing, anger leaving him. "He's not dangerous. He used to take a potion a year back . . . called Wolfsbane." Harry grimaced. "It worked really well, but it prevented him from connecting with his wolf . . . which just made him weaker in the end. He doesn't take it anymore," he added. Edward's eyes narrowed.

"Isn't he wild?" he demanded. "How do you know he'll be safe?"

"He is!" Harry said with exasperation. "I'll be there on Friday and Sunday, and when I'm not there, the shapeshifters will be there." Edward just stared at him and Harry huffed. "Trust me, I won't be hurt _at all_."

"You're not indestructible," Edward reminded him. "Even if you're arcàngelo . . . ."

Harry frowned, wondering if he should tell them about his Animagus form. He shrugged inwardly after a few moments of thought; they didn't _need_ to know. To be honest, he still wanted a way to hide if this entire alliance went to hell (which Harry really didn't think it would, but he'd learned through experience that sometimes things weren't as they seemed and that to trust anyone was to open yourself up to betrayal). If the time came, he could retreat into his animagus form, and he wanted to keep his options open.

"I'll be fine," he told Edward finally. "But I have to confess, I don't see why _you_ care. Are you worried, Edward?" He grinned, leaning forward on his hands, hiding any anxiety behind bravado as he usually did. Harry had found that when you were bold people didn't often think you were really scared shitless underneath it all.

Edward's mouth thinned. "Not at all," he snapped, looking annoyed. Whether it was at himself or Harry, he had no idea. "I just didn't want you to get yourself killed and upset Alice."

Alice giggled from her place beside Harry. She must've thought something at her brother, because Edward snapped a glare in her direction, golden eyes spitting fire. Harry smiled; Edward was always extraordinarily handsome, but he looked better angry. He was less like a doll that way.

The bell rang overhead and the Cullens rose together in a single unit, all graceful and poised. Harry wondered if other students noticed the eeriness around the Cullen family or if all of the humans in Forks were extraordinarily dense. Then again, he did know that humans liked to explain things away rationally; he remembered the Dursleys and shuddered. Where would he be if he hadn't gone to Hogwarts? Would he still be stuck in their world, where things only existed if they were normal and accepted in society? He thought of Vernon's wild eyes and heard a belt crack in the air and flinched. Jasper whipped around to look at him with large, concerned eyes, and Harry wondered if his shields had dropped for a moment, allowing the sensitive vampire to feel what he was feeling. Frantically, he strengthened them heavily and put on an easy (and fake) smile.

Jasper didn't seem convinced, but he said nothing as they swept out of the lunchroom. They split up in the hallway; Harry tagged along with Edward since they had the same class while the rest of the Cullen students spread out across the school. Harry still felt a bit shaken; every once in a while those memories would sneak up on him without warning and leave him trembling. He'd managed to work through his past, for the most part but sometimes . . . sometimes memories just couldn't be shoved away.

He didn't even notice that he'd stopped in the middle of the hallway until a cold touch startled him out of his thoughts. He blinked, looking at the flow of traffic moving around him like river water would to a boulder, and turned to look into Edward's golden eyes. The vampire looked half concerned and half frustrated. Harry wondered if the frustration was because he still couldn't look into Harry's and find out what was bothering him. Harry quickly checked his shields and sighed quietly in relief when he realized they were still in place.

"Are you alright?" Edward asked quietly, starting to move again. Harry followed after him closely, aware of the curious eyes on them.

"Just fine," Harry said, smiling brightly again. His mouth stretched strangely, feeling supremely fake to Harry, but Edward accepted his assurance, even if he looked a bit suspicious. Harry sighed with relief; he'd already confessed too much of himself to these vampires, and this was one thing that no one beyond Remus would know about.

* * *

The night before the full moon, Harry and Remus drove up to La Push.

Unlike the last time they'd been there, everyone who lived there was gathered outside of their houses, milling around, preparing for the night ahead. Remus led Harry thought the crowd until they found Billy Black waiting for them. He was standing by a young man with an intense expression on his face. They both looked over as Remus and Harry approached.

"Remus, Harry," he greeted warmly. "Sam, these are the two I was telling you about. Remus, Harry, this is Sam Uley; he's the . . . Alpha of our current shapeshifters."

Sam looked at Remus and Harry with cold dark eyes. Harry's own eyes narrowed; he didn't like that _look_.

"This is who we're going through all the trouble for?" he asked, sounding contemptuous. Remus pulled his lips away from his teeth and snarled; his wolf was an Alpha as well, and as the full moon approached Moony got more and more volatile. Harry instantly stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back with as much strength as he had. Remus calmed under his hand, but only barely, and his golden eyes never left Sam's face.

"Be careful what you say," Harry said to Sam, who looked only a bit startled at the intense reaction. Soon, his expression cleared completely.

"And why should I listen to you?" he asked, taking a deep sniff of the air. "You're not even werewolf! What is he doing here, Billy? Just because this guy is your friend doesn't mean—"

"He's _my_ cub," Remus snarled, getting more and more wolf like. Harry looked over at the horizon worriedly and winced when he realized the sun was dipping closer and closer to the horizon. There wasn't much time.

"I don't care _what_ he is, he can't run with us if he's _human_—"

"Don't talk about him that way, you—"

"I'll say whatever I _want_—"

"Bloody _hell_," Harry snarled and changed.

Remus had given his Nundu form the nickname of Yuki, after their stay in Japan. Harry agreed that the name suited his form perfectly; his coat was always as white as snow, with large silver-grey dots sprinkled across his body. His eyes were as green as they were when he was human, and his scar took the form of an especially dark grey mark on his forehead. Harry was huge as a cat; he reached at least seven feet in length, if not eight. As a cat, his tolerance for cold rose exponentially and everything in the world seemed sharper and clearer.

Yuki enjoyed the gob smacked look on the arrogant upstart's face. Deciding to teach him a lesson, he stood on his hind legs, placing huge paws on Sam's shoulders. He actually towered a few inches above the boy, who definitely was no slouch in the height department. Grinning a cattish grin, Yuki gave a clean lick with his broad tongue over Sam's face. It was lucky for Sam that his spit wasn't poisonous at all. Then, without moving away, he changed back.

He had to crane his head to look Sam in the eye, but it was worth it. "Satisfied?" he asked, glaring.

Sam snapped out of his surprise and wiped his face, making a face at the cat slobber. "Yes," he said flatly. "I guess you can run with us."

"Good," Harry said, just as dry. "I was _so worried_ about that."

Sam snorted. Remus seemed to relax now that Sam wasn't sending daggers through his eyes, much to Harry's relief; the tension coming off of his guardian had been palpable and thick. He looked over his shoulder into golden eyes.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly. The full moon had become easier for Remus since he'd accepted his wolf, but it still was painful as hell.

Remus nodded, eyes going up to the lowering sun. As moonrise came closer, he got quieter and quieter, more focused on the coming night than anything in the real world.

"I'd better get him set up," Harry told Billy, taking Remus' hand in his own. Billy nodded. "I appreciate you doing this," Harry added. "Remus told me you don't usually run as a pack on the full moon."

"In a town with vampires, it's not the best move," Sam broke in, looking expressionless. Harry sent him a look from the edge of his eye and wondered if Sam was alluding to Harry's . . . _alliance_ with said vampires.

"By the way," Harry added casually as he passed Billy, "where's Jacob? Isn't he shapeshifter?"

Billy and Sam exchanged a look. "We believe he is," Billy said flatly. "He has the gene for it, definitely. But he hasn't shown any signs yet."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So he doesn't know yet?"

"He knows the legends," Billy said, spreading his hands helplessly. "But he doesn't believe them."

"He won't know until he changes," Sam cut in firmly, his dark eyes fixed on Harry's green ones. Harry read the silent message there; _and_ _you won't tell him._ He smirked a little.

"Your secret's safe with me," he said, a little sardonically. He didn't think it would be possible to tell Jacob without Sam finding out somehow . . . and he had no doubt that the Alpha of a shapeshifter pack could make life uncomfortable for him, especially if he apparently knew about his relationship with the Cullens. Jacob would change eventually . . . and Harry would be there for him when he did. He liked Jacob; the kid relaxed him.

He glanced up at the sky again and, without saying anything more to Sam or Billy, hurried towards an unoccupied building. Remus was incoherent, his eyes wild.

"C'mere," Harry said, gathering Remus close to him. His guardian had done so much for him that it was nice to know that he could give it back somehow. The full moon was the only chance Harry ever got to look after Remus for a change, even if his own weakness happened in the middle of it.

He felt it as the sun dipped below the horizon. Ice Nundus weren't as connected to the moon as werewolves were, but they were night creatures and they felt the moon's changes vaguely. He watched as Remus began to tremble and changed into Yuki. Remus wouldn't hurt him if he was human, but when it came to dealing with the werewolf, Harry preferred to be Yuki.

Yuki watched with slanted eyes as the man in front of him shivered and howled out his pain as his bones began to change. Slowly, the man twisted and turned and twisted until there was a giant wolf-dog standing in front of him, panting heavily. Yuki made a soft sound in the back of his throat, and yellow-gold eyes swung up to stare at him. Moony gave a wolfish smile and limped over to Yuki's side, giving his side a firm, friendly nudge. Yuki laughed cattishly and licked the tip of Moony's nose in turn.

Moony growled playfully at him and leaped at him, knocking them both out of the small house they'd occupied. Outside, there were several wolfish sounds of surprise as they rolled around, playfully wrestling. Then there were barks of laughter as the shapeshifters around them realized who exactly was fighting in their midst.

Finally, Moony managed to pin Yuki down, smirking down at him playfully. Yuki glared at him, but when Moony let him up he gave the wolf a quick lick on the side of his face in affection. Moony smiled at him and then looked around at the shapeshifters around him. He lifted his head to the sky, towards the rising moon, and gave a long, loud howl. The shapeshifters exchanged a look and followed his lead, howling loudly.

Yuki turned quickly when a huge black wolf approached them, eyes focused on Moony. Yuki sniffed deeply and realized that this was Sam. He huffed and then dropped to his belly, waiting for Sam and Moony to hash out who would lead the run.

Moony turned to look at Sam balefully. His hackles slowly rose as Sam's eyes didn't slid away in submission. He bared his teeth at Sam, but Sam only returned the gesture. Sam and Moony stared at each other for a long moment, a battle of wills. Moony almost looked ready to attack, and Yuki absently wondered if he should help. However, Sam made his own decision and lowered his eyes, handing leadership to Moony for the moment. Moony instantly calmed, growling in approval. Sam didn't look happy about it, but Yuki supposed that he knew better than to go a round with a werewolf that was bigger and stronger than him. Yuki purred approvingly and Sam glared at him from the corner of his eye.

Moony turned to the rest of the pack and howled again before turning and running through the trees. Yuki was instantly on his feet, following him, while the rest of the pack raced behind them. Moony looked over his shoulder as they raced through the trees, only barely avoiding trees in some places, and shared an animal grin with Yuki.

Yuki had never felt more free running with Moony. The ground flying underneath his feet, the scent of the woods in his nose, he felt more free than he ever had before. As Yuki, he could let all of his feelings go and just _be_. There was never a better feeling in the world. Yuki grinned and let out a rumbling roar, not caring that anyone could hear him; he felt _wonderful_.

* * *

The next day, he didn't feel so wonderful.

It was the weakness of the arcàngelo to suffer a monthly illness, always on the day that the moon was its fullest. The curse affected everyone differently, but Harry he always got a bad case of fever and nausea, and his magic fluctuated wildly, never fully under his control. It was something that he usually needed someone's help to monitor; plus, being sick by yourself was never a fun thing to do. In several of the places they'd stayed at, he'd had people to help him through it while Remus went through his own monthly illness. But this day . . . he only had Snape.

Remus always stayed with him during the day. However, sunset had approached and he'd had to leave. Snape had arrived just as Remus had been prepared to go out the door, not able to delay anymore. Remus had greeted him thankfully and a little shyly and then had hurried out of the door; sunset had been in twenty minutes and he would be lucky to make it to La Push before he had to change.

Snape had surveyed the scene; Harry lying exhaustedly on the couch, a throw-up bucket near him and bundled in a blanket, and had given a long sigh, taking the seat next to the couch. Where he'd sat since he'd arrived.

They hadn't yet spoken to each other. Harry was just too tired to do so, and Snape had never been one for conversation that wasn't nasty, as far as Harry knew. Still, it was a little uncomfortable.

"Potter," Snape said suddenly, jerking Harry out of his musing, "have you experienced this ever since becoming arcàngelo?"

"Yeah," Harry said thickly. He grimaced as he tasted a bit of back-wash from his last throw-up session. He really needed some mouthwash. "It comes with being arcàngelo."

"I see," Snape said, still looking emotionless. "Did he say why it occurred on the full moon?"

"Arcàngelo are dark creatures," Harry explained with exhaustion. "We're strongest during the night, and when there's no moon. Full moon is like the sun during the night so—" Harry cut himself off and dived for the bucket. Snape made no sound as he retched into the bucket.

Harry finished and leaned back, panting a bit. A small bottle came into the edge of his vision and he looked over to see Snape offering it to him. "It freshens breath," Snape explained and smirked a bit. "I'm sure you need it."

Harry didn't dispute that; he took the bottle silently and swallowed it. It had a fresh, minty taste; surprising to Harry since he hadn't thought potions could taste anything other than disgusting, no matter how good their purpose was. He sighed in relief as the disgusting taste in his mouth disappeared completely, replaced with a minty taste that reminded Harry of toothpaste.

"Thank you," he rasped, his voice husky from the constant throwing up. Snape inclined his head.

They were silent for long moments after that. Harry closed his eyes as he felt the day ending; as with the night before, he could _feel_ the moon, but it seemed so much more _vibrant_ now, as if the connection had been muffled before. He felt like he could feel her sliding into the sky, inch by inch. Harry took a deep breath and braced himself; the moon-rise and the following night were the hardest parts of his day of weakness.

His shields collapsed as the sun finally dipped below the horizon and nighttime began. Harry gasped, arching off the couch as _sensation_ crashed into him; _love, hate, anger, jealousy, sadness, _. The feelings hammered into his brain, until all he could do was _feel_. Every emotion of every person around him traveled through his brain, making sure that they were known and felt and _important_ to Harry, no matter how unimportant he found them. Every drop of feeling that any person in Forks felt, Harry felt it too.

It was burning agony and the greatest pleasure imaginable, to feel _everything_. Harry rode the sensation, but he drowned in it as well. He was both disappointed and relieved as he fell away into unconsciousness, unable to process so many emotions all at once.

Severus watched with concern as his charge blacked out. Potter's eyes had gone golden during those last moments; Severus wasn't sure why, and that alone worried him. He'd gathered as much material as he could about arcàngelo since finding out that Harry Potter was one, and was disturbed by how little knowledge he'd been able to add to what he already knew of the species. There was so little documentation on them; at some points in history, it was as if the arcàngelo didn't exist.

He wondered what had caused Potter to black out. It could've been any number of things, but the screams and the painful angle his back had achieved when he'd arched it off of the couch narrowed it down a little. _'It could be a gift,'_ Severus mused, waving his wand over the mess in the bucket Potter had thrown up in. _'Perhaps Magic Sense or Empathy.'_

Whatever it was, he wouldn't know until Potter woke up. Severus settled down to wait.

* * *

In the Cullen household, Jasper stilled as he felt a build-up of emotions coming from somewhere in Forks. He frowned and focused on it; usually that type of build-up was only caused by a large gathering of humans . . . . and although it was a Saturday night, Jasper didn't think that there were any human events going on that night. His frown deepened and he concentrated.

He blinked in surprise as he reached the pool of emotions and found, through some digging, an essence that felt essentially _Harry Moon_ to him. Had he not gotten just the tiniest glimpse of Harry that day in the cafeteria – the day he'd felt sadness so intense and deep that he wondered how anyone else could claim to feel the same emotion – he wouldn't have been able to recognize it, but Jasper was sure it was Harry. He pursed his lips (a human gesture he'd never really stopped using); Harry was empathetic. Whatever that build-up of emotion was . . . it couldn't be good if it centered on him. More than that, as he concentrated further, Jasper felt a kind of . . . pain/pleasure.

He didn't need to look up when someone loomed over him; he knew from experience that it would be Edward.

"What's happening?" his brother demanded, golden eyes flashing. "What's wrong with Harry?"

Jasper wondered why Edward couldn't just announce his attraction to Harry and get it over with; he'd felt Edward pulling himself back from even trying to pursue the new student and it was so _tiring_. But his brother was starting to feel a little irrational; now was not the time to lecture him about withholding emotions.

"I don't know," Jasper said, half of his mind still concentrated on the pool of emotions. "There's something . . . wrong."

Edward snarled and Jasper felt that strange thread of _other_ that he always got whenever Edward dived into his head for real. It was strange, knowing that your head was being riffled through and not realizing exactly what was going on throughout it all. He felt Edward withdraw.

"Something's not right," he said, frowning and a little calmer now that he knew the situation. "I'm going over there," he added, nodding firmly. "Tell Carlisle if he asks," he added to Jasper. And before Jasper could protest and say that he was going to, Edward was gone.

Jasper sighed. Maybe his impulsive brother would do something about it, or maybe not, but at least he knew that Harry would have a careful protector. He turned toward the living room; if he was going to monitor what was happening, he could at least do it comfortably.

Edward arrived at the Moon's house in forty seconds flat. He stared up at it with hard golden eyes before walking up to the door and knocking. Edward smiled to himself, a little sardonically; he knew his siblings would call him old-fashioned for knocking on a door that he could've barged into with little problem, but Edward liked to keep his manners.

He smelt the human coming to answer the door before it was opened, and Edward frowned as he realized it wasn't Harry. It was someone else – an adult male, by the smell of him, with that peculiar undertone to his scent that Edward supposed was magic. His frown deepened, but he managed to hide it away as the door opened to reveal a tall, black-haired man with sharp black eyes. He was dressed in dark robes.

"Who are you?" the man said quickly. Edward dived towards his mind without thinking and winced as he was rebuffed by extremely strong shields. The man's eyes narrowed.

"More than that," he said, more softly than before, and more dangerously, "why are you going rummaging around in my mind?"

"I'm sorry," Edward said, thinking that an apology was probably best with this man. "I do it without thinking."

The man eyed him and then comprehension dawned on his face. "You're one of those vampires P-_Harry_ has been nattering on about," he sneered. "One of the _Cullens_."

Edward was almost amused by the disdain the man had for him. "Yes, I'm Edward Cullen," he said, and almost held his hand out, but decided against it at the look on the man's face. "I'm here to see Harry."

"Well I _know_ that," the man said irritably. "Why else would you be here?"

Before Edward could answer, a voice called from the living room, "Snape?" Edward forced himself not to run in at the sound of Harry's voice; he sounded very weak. The man, Snape, looked over his shoulder and sighed.

"You'd better come in, I suppose," he said with distaste before marching back into the house. "What is it P-Harry?" Edward heard him saying.

"I need water," Harry said pathetically and Edward stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He hurried towards the room that he heard voices in and stopped in the doorway as he took in Harry.

He looked particularly sick, his green eyes unfocused and feverish and his skin covered with sweat. His hair hung wet with it, clinging to his forehead. Whatever he used to cover his face had faded away, leaving his tattoos in plain view, and he was wrapped in a thick blanket.

Harry swung around to stare at him as soon he entered the room. "Edward?" he questioned, his voice little more than a raspy whisper. It amazed Edward that he was able to speak loudly at all.

"Jasper felt something unusual," he forced himself to say, but didn't look away from Harry's face. "I thought I should check it out."

Snape, who had just come back with a glass of water, snorted. Edward glared at him, but Snape didn't notice. "Try and keep that down," he advised Harry as the ill boy took a sip of it. "Throwing up anymore might ruin your throat."

Harry gave a dry hiccup of a laugh. "I'll survive," he said, and his voice sounded better after drinking the water. He looked up at Snape. "Why did you let him in?"

Edward frowned; he didn't think that Harry would be overjoyed to see him, but he'd thought they were past animosity. Snape shrugged.

"There didn't seem to be much point in making sure that he stayed out," he said dryly. Snape and Harry locked eyes for a long moment.

"What's happened to him?" Edward directed his question to Snape, who didn't seem pleased to be questioned.

"It's his day of weakening," Snape explained with exasperation. When Edward didn't seem to comprehend what he meant, he sighed with irritation. "Every month, the arcàngelo experience a day and a night of weakness, starting and ending at midnight. It's different for every arcàngelo . . . and P-Moon gets nausea and fever . . . and apparently blacks out for mysterious reasons." Snape directed a flat black stare to Harry, who had closed his eyes during this explanation and thus missed the blunt intensity of it. Edward had to stop himself from growling at Snape for looking at Harry like that when he was _sick_.

"I have the _gift_ of empathy," Harry explained, his eyes closed. "During the full moon, my shields are destroyed several times . . . and I can't stop the emotions from flowing in. They overwhelm me . . . and I need to black out while my shields strengthen. I'm guessing they'll be destroyed again in about an hour." He cracked one eye open. "Enough of an explanation for you?"

"Did you experience this when you first became arcàngelo?" Snape asked, straight to the point.

"I didn't gain complete control over my gift until about six months into hiding," Harry explained, his voice getting raspier. "Until then, all I got was . . . flashes of emotions. But it was during that full moon that they all just . . . crashed in. After that day, I managed to figure out a way to block them out during the rest of the month if I didn't want to deal with them."

"Which is what you'll be teaching Jasper," Edward clarified. Snape's eyes snapped towards Edward.

"You're _teaching_ them?" he asked in a clipped, soft tone. Harry groaned.

"One of theirs is empathetic," he explained. "He needs to control it, and I know how to. Stop being so paranoid, Snape," he chided. Snape frowned, but he turned his gaze back towards Harry.

"Any other unexpected gifts I should be prepared for?" he asked dryly. "The wolf didn't mention this when he listed what to expect."

"R-Faolan gave you a list?" Harry asked with a sort of tired amusement.

"We both know that you _require_ a list, Harry," Snape said dryly. Harry managed to rasp out a laugh, but he started coughing almost immediately after.

Snape reached forward to give Harry his glass of water back, but Edward made it to him first. He carefully pressed it back into Harry's hand, carefully ignoring his alluring scent, and frowning as the teen flinched away from his hands. He pulled away awkwardly.

"S-sorry," Harry coughed out. "S-sensitive to cold."

Edward tried to ignore the rush of relief that Harry wasn't disgusted by him. No matter how much his beast wanted Harry, he couldn't have him; he didn't _deserve_ him. Harry was beautiful and amazing and perfect and Edward was a monster. His lips twisted bitterly as he stood and stepped away from the person on the couch that he wanted more than anyone he ever had before.

Harry's eyes fluttered as his coughing ceased and he slowly fell back asleep. Edward caught his glass before it fell to the floor and carefully set it aside. When he turned, he found black eyes focused on him as if he was a bug under a microscope.

"What?" he asked, an edge of irritation in his voice. Snape's stare was extremely disconcerting.

Snape smirked. "Oh nothing," he said. "I just hope the wolf gets back soon. Watching someone vomit isn't my idea of a good time; especially not when it's P-Harry."

Edward watched as Snape slumped into an armchair. "Who are you?" he asked curiously. "Why would Harry's father ask you to watch him?" The monster purred inside of him, _'Why didn't he ask me?'_ Edward ignored it.

"I was his professor," Snape said, tilting his head towards the sleeping Harry. "Other than that, I have no idea why the wolf would trust me with his precious cub." He sneered heavily.

Edward wondered; there had to be more to it than that. If Harry and his father were really on the run, they probably wouldn't trust many people. What about Snape made him worthy? What had he done to gain their trust? But Edward supposed it didn't really matter if he knew; Snape had sneered and sniped and barked, but he'd watched over Harry carefully all the same. Whatever the reason, their trust was obviously not misplaced.

Edward settled into the chair across from Snape. "What are you doing?" the black haired man asked, but his voice was less sharp and more tired.

"I'm not leaving," Edward said. Harry was vulnerable and sick. Even if he'd wanted to leave, his monster wouldn't have allowed him. Whether Edward liked it or not, it had claimed Harry as its own, and it wouldn't let him be so vulnerable to attack while Edward was there to protect him.

Snape considered him carefully. "Very well," he said, settling back. "But don't expect P-Harry to be very happy about this when he wakes."

Edward smiled a bit, looking over at the volatile teen asleep on the couch. "I wouldn't expect him to be," he said, more tenderly than he'd wanted to. Snape, if he noticed, didn't say anything about it, and Edward was glad for it.

* * *

Remus returned home in the morning feeling better than he had in _months_.

The middle night of the full moon was always the hardest for him; for one, it was the single night he had to go without Harry as his companion, and it was always the hardest. Without his cub to ground him, Moony was always wilder and more violent. During their travels, Remus had considered several times taking Wolfsbane during that night so that he wouldn't accidentally go on a killing spree. But, in the end, he'd always decided that it would set back the progress he'd made connecting with his wolf and hoped for the best. However, this full moon, he'd had a whole pack to keep him company and Moony had been very happy by the end of it.

Remus opened the door tiredly and hurried toward the living room, where he could smell Harry and Severus and . . . Remus slowed and stared at the scene in the living room.

Harry was asleep on the couch, still looking pale, but in a lot better shape than he'd been when Remus had left the night before. Severus was sitting in one of their armchairs, dark circles under his otherwise alert eyes. But across from him sat a lithe teen with ruffled bronze hair; a Cullen, by the smell of him, and probably Edward from Harry's description of the family.

Golden eyes turned to survey him and Remus tensed. Vampires and Werewolves were usually natural enemies, and although _he_ felt no need to attack the boy in front of him, it didn't mean Edward felt the same. However, the vampire didn't tense in preparation for attack; instead, he only looked curious.

"You must be Faolan," he said, standing and holding out a hand. Remus stepped forward and took it in his own, wincing at the icy temperature. "I'm—"

"Edward Cullen, I know," Remus cut in. "Harry's spoken about you," he added in wryly, remembering Harry's rants on the subject of Edward. Edward stared at him and then frowned, pulling his gaze away. Remus remembered that Edward was the mind-reader, and wondered if he was trying to stop himself from going into Remus'. Remus smiled a bit; the gesture was nice, even though Remus knew enough Occlumency to keep someone out of his head, although he'd never be as skilled as Severus, or even Harry for that matter.

"Why are you here?" Remus asked, the question not accusatory, but curious.

"My brother, Jasper . . . he felt a big charge of emotions around Harry," Edward said, staring at his sleeping cub. Moony rumbled in the back of Remus' mind. "I came to make sure everything was alright."

"And then he stayed," Severus grumbled, getting up from his chair and stretching. Remus watched with an appreciative eye; Severus was mostly too skinny, but he was made of lean muscle and seeing him stretch was nothing if not an attractive sight. Severus didn't seem to notice his perusal, but Edward did; as he turned back to the vampire, he was looking at him with knowing golden eyes. Remus winced; was it really that obvious? Harry had found him out quickly as well . . . . "I need to be going," Severus continued. "Albus will be wondering where I am by now. Tell P-Harry," Remus snorted in amusement at hearing Harry's name on Severus' lips; he must've realized that they were using fake ones, "that I will be back in a few days to collect his feathers. At the moment, they are contaminated by his sickness."

"Wait before you go, Severus," Remus hurried into the kitchen and came back out carrying a stack of letters. "Will you take these to Harry's friends? They're all labeled."

Severus looked down at the pile of papers and sneered, but he took them and tucked them away in his robes carefully enough. "I will do so," he murmured and turned towards the floo.

"Be safe," Remus said, watching with an aching heart as Severus collected floo powder and disappeared in the fireplace. He did hate to see the man he was so hopelessly in love with go off into danger. His only consolation was that Severus was extremely capable of taking care of himself.

He turned back to Edward, who was looking at the fireplace with curiosity and surprise. Remus had forgotten that Edward had likely heard nothing about the wizarding world; likely the floo was as foreign to him as muggle things were to a wizard. "It's called a Floo," Remus explained. "F-l-o-o, not the disease," he added with a wry smile. "It's a way of wizarding transport."

"It looks dirty," Edward said. "How does it work?" He sounded genuinely curious.

"The powder activates magical flames; by saying the name of the place you want to go to, the pathway to their floo is opened and you can travel through it," Remus explained, adopting his "teacher voice" as Harry liked to call it. "And it _is_ very dirty," he added wryly. "Harry hates the floo; he always ends up stumbling out of it."

Edward looked back at his sleeping cub and Remus saw a variety of emotions on his face; some were so subtle that he couldn't discern the meaning, but there was definitely some affection there. Remus wondered if it was just friendship – which Harry had a way of inspiring, no matter how ornery he appeared at first – or more than that.

He was drawn from his thoughts as Harry blinked awake, yawning hugely as he sat up and stretched. He looked around the room sleepily before his eyes came to rest on Remus and Edward.

"You're back!" he cried, standing up and nearly falling. Edward caught him before Remus could and Harry turned to him in surprise, shivering slightly. "You're still here?" he said with confusion. "I thought I dreamed you."

Edward smirked. "You dream about me often?" he murmured and Harry blushed. Remus watched with amusement.

"Of course not!" he sputtered and then turned to Remus. Edward, Remus noticed, kept a hand hovering over Harry's back, ready to catch him again if he fell. Remus caught Harry into a hug, breathing in the scent of _pack_ and _cub_. Harry smelled tired and sick, but it was slowly fading as the sun rose and the last day of the full moon began. Tomorrow, he would even better as the moon slowly lost its light and became dark again, leaving him at full strength.

"How was your night?" Remus murmured into his hair and he felt Harry shrug.

"Alright," he murmured. "I know yours was good," he added, pulling away so he could smile softly up at his guardian.

Remus sighed; sometimes he hated Harry's empathy, especially when it came to his night of weakness. Harry always felt all of the emotions that were going on around him in a radius that they had figured out spanned about 30 miles or so. The day after the full moon, Harry slowly cataloged the sensations he'd felt the night before, able to assign them to people by their feeling and texture. Harry had tried to explain it to Remus before, but Remus was only confused by it; to him, emotions were emotions and while the smells of them could be different they were all essentially the same according to each person.

"Yes, I had a good night," he said, hugging his cub tightly to him. "I'm glad Severus was here to watch over you," he added, his protective feelings roused a bit when he thought of how vulnerable Harry had been last night.

"He wasn't bad at it," Harry said musingly. "At least he didn't snipe at me."

Remus smiled. "I told you he wouldn't."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but you _love_ him. Of course you'd tell me he wouldn't snipe at me."

Remus blushed. "I don't—" he started, but was cut off by Edward clearing his throat. They both turned to look at him.

"I should be getting home," he said, his eyes flickering between Remus and Harry. "I'm glad you're okay, Harry," he said sincerely, "and it was nice to meet you, Faolan." Edward hesitated. "My family will probably want to come over and meet you soon."

Remus smiled. "I look forward to it," he said, and then Edward was gone. Harry stared at the space he'd been for several moments, looking thoughtful.

"You know, I don't think he's actually that bad," he said, and Remus stifled a smile.

"No, I don't think he is," he agreed. He yawned hugely. "However, I do think _I_ need some sleep. C'mon cub, I'll get you to your bedroom." He took Harry by the shoulders and led him to the stairs, where they could get some needed rest.

* * *

**Author's Note:** My wrists hurt! I wrote like the last half of this in one sitting. Yey for a long-ish chapter! Hopefully this peace offering means I won't get hate mail for how long it took me to update. Please leave a review and let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter Seven: Emotions

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the reviews! I'm hoping you all already know my summer schedule, but in case you don't . . .

Fridays are when Aseptic Vitality will be updated  
Saturdays are when Dissonance will be updated  
Sundays are when Hanging by a Moment will be updated

Any other updates will be random unless I specifically say so.

* * *

**Aseptic Vitality**  
**Chapter Seven: Emotions**

Secrets are made to be found out with time. (Charles Sanford)

You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present. (Jan Glidewell)

* * *

"So what you're telling me is that you're going to have to deal with seven vampires during your mating season?" Arrian was not amused.

"Only one of them isn't mated," Harry assured him. "So I'll really only have to deal with him."

"But that's not counting all of the shapeshifters around," Arrian added, sighing. "Although with a vampire as a contender, you probably won't even notice them."

Harry frowned. "Just because he's a vampire doesn't mean I'll be throwing myself at him," he said, a little petulantly. Arrian laughed.

"Oh, kid. Vampires are steeped in magical energy . . . especially if they've been around for longer than fifty or so years. As time passes, they collect more and more magic . . . . the older they are, the more you're attracted to them. It doesn't mean that you'll choose him . . . it just means that everyone else around has very little chance of getting your attention unless they've got a lot of charisma or innate magic." Arrian was grinning in a way that suggested how much he was enjoying telling Harry that he would be throwing himself at a vampire in a few months time.

Harry sighed in aggravation. "He's not completely horrible," he admitted. "He just always acts weird around me." Harry frowned severely.

Arrian smiled a bit. "Let me guess . . . he's over-protective and then denies it, he growls a lot and says strange things sometimes." Harry eyed him.

"Yeah, exactly," he said, still frowning. "But how did you know?"

"Oh, I just guessed," Arrian said airily, smiling. It'd be interesting to see how Harry reacted when he realized that the Cullen boy wanted him. Arrian didn't want to spoil the surprise just yet. He'd let the tension rise before he did anything about it. Arrian always did love a good drama. He'd pay good money to see how Harry reacted to that little bit of information when the time came.

Harry eyed him suspiciously, as if he was aware that Arrian was withholding information, but said nothing more about it. "I'm working more on my elements," he said, changing the subject. Arrian straightened.

"Has fire behaved yet?" he asked. He'd had control of water himself and he'd been told many times how spoiled he was. Water was the easiest element to work with, overall, with air coming in at a close second. He'd heard horror stories of people who controlled fire. It was notorious for being difficult to master and even harder to please. Harry had had his work cut out for him the day he had woken up with Fire's symbols drawn all over his body.

Harry rolled his eyes. "If fire behaved itself, the world would end," he told Arrian dryly. "But it hasn't been as unruly as usual, so that's a start." Arrian smiled.

"At least you're getting along now," he said sympathetically. He recalled Harry's first experience with fire and winced. They hadn't got on well _at all_. He supposed it was a case of, well . . . fire meeting fire. They'd just rubbed each other the wrong way. Arrian grinned suddenly. His apprentice was very temperamental and stubborn, just like his element. Harry was lucky he had air as well, or he might not even be able to control fire. Those who did were notorious for taking twice as long as everyone else because they didn't have the patience to deal with their difficult element.

"Just barely," Harry said, but he smiled, making the statement less whiny than it should have sounded. Harry's head tilted to the side and he watched Arrian thoughtfully for a moment. Arrian shifted uncomfortably under that look, and was about to say something when Harry said, "Arrian, who are you really?"

Arrian froze. "What do you mean?" he asked, hoping that Harry would drop the subject.

Harry's eyes narrowed at him, as if he knew what Arrian was thinking. "I mean, I've known you for a year and you've never told me about who you were before . . . ." he waved a hand at Arrian's body a little awkwardly, "before you came here. I know next to nothing about your life, about who you were."

Arrian forced a smile. "Oh, my life isn't that interesting Harry," he said. _Please drop it,_ he thought. _Please don't ask me again._ "I'm sure you would be bored."

Harry watched him for a moment. "What happened, Arrian?" he asked softly. "Why don't you want to tell me? Is your past that horrible?"

"What're you talking about, _fanciullo_?"

"You know what!" Harry snapped. "Where were you born? How long were you alive? When did you find out that you were an arcàngelo? Were you ever bonded? Did you have any family?" He paused, and then added, "How did you die?"

Arrian seemed to tense with every new question. "Look, Harry—" he started, then broke off, looking pained. "My life wasn't that great okay? I just . . . really don't want to talk about it." He turned away from his responsibility and closed his eyes against the memories. Arrian swallowed, trying to quell the rising uneasiness in his stomach.

"Arrian, my past is horrible as well, but you know _everything_ about me," Harry said, more gently. "Why can't you just tell me? I just . . . I just want to know you _were_ before . . . ." _before you're gone,_ went unsaid. Arrian tensed.

"I just _can't_, Harry," he said. "I'm sorry. I know that it's unfair that our relationship is so one-sided, but I just . . . ." He shivered. Memories were trying to push their way back in and he blocked them as best as he could.

He heard Harry approach. A gentle hand was laid upon his shoulder, and Arrian relaxed a little. They'd formed a bond, he and Harry, and his charge's touch was comforting to him. "I'm sorry," he heard Harry whisper, sounding stricken. He turned to see wide, concerned green eyes staring at him. "I didn't mean to upset you." he added, looking almost shamefaced. Arrian looked at him for a moment, and then his lips quirked and he drew Harry into a tight hug.

"Don't worry about it, _fanciullo_," he murmured into Harry's hair. "I know you meant no harm by it. But just trust me when I say you don't want to know, okay?"

Harry's arms tightened around his waist. "Alright Arrian," he said calmly.

Arrian knew Harry too well to suppose that this would be the end of the discussion. He knew that his charge was curious and that if information was denied to him he'd find a way to explore it somehow. Arrian's arms tightened around Harry before releasing him, smiling down at him. He would never tell Harry what had happened to him. Harry didn't need any more horror on his shoulders than he already had. Harry could pry as much as he could, but Arrian would never surrender his past to his charge. He loved Harry too much to do that.

* * *

**Hogwarts  
September 19th, 1997**

Severus Snape was lying in wait.

He'd learned the skill as a boy, during his days at Hogwarts. By the time he'd become a Death Eater and then a spy, he'd been well-versed in the subject. He hadn't thought he would ever need to use his skills on a group of bumbling teenagers who thought they were being sneaky . . . and yet here he was. Severus sneered.

The Room of Requirement was a nasty little hindrance. If those damned teenagers didn't spend so much time in there, he wouldn't be out here, waiting for them to leave so that he could give them their damned letters. Severus' sneer deepened. _Damn Potters always find a way to waste my time,_ he grumbled inwardly. He shifted on the comfortable chair he'd Transfigured for himself. He'd never had Minerva's skills, but he'd never been lacking when it came down to it.

His head snapped up when he heard a slight grinding sound and a door suddenly appeared in the door. He unfolded his body from the chair just as Granger, Longbottom, Lovegood, and Weasley exited the room. He smirked a little when they all stared at him with gaping faces. For a moment, they just stood there in silence.

"P-professor!" Granger said finally, looking more composed.

Severus wanted to make her squirm a little. But he had already been waiting for too long, and he had papers to grade. So instead, he held out the small stack of papers Potter had given him. Granger looked down at them in confusion and then hesitantly took them. Her eyes widened when she got a closer look on the handwriting on the outside, and she looked up at Severus sharply, eyes considering. Severus just stared back at her.

"Oi!" Weasley said, obnoxious as usual. "What the hell's going on?"

Severus cast a quick eye over the hallway. There was only a landscape portrait in the hall, which explained why Dumbledore hadn't yet realized that his pet students were plotting against him. Still, that did not meant he should speak freely. He wouldn't put anything past Dumbledore.

"Miss Granger, your extra credit papers, all fully graded," he said smoothly. "Next time you wish to know your grades, _Granger_, I suggest you collect them in _class_, like every other student."

"You did _more_ extra credit Hermione?" Weasley asked, obtuse as ever. Granger, however, understood Snape's silent message not to say more than possible.

"Of course Professor," she said. "It was rude of me to ask you to give them to me earlier."

"Take care to be more courteous in the future, Granger," Severus said. He glanced down the hall again and then leaned down towards Granger's face. "Take care not to talk in front of the portraits," he said softly. "And if you wish to answer, give them to me."

He turned swiftly on his heel. Before he was too far away he paused and turned back. "Twenty points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for being out after curfew," he called out, delighting in Weasley's outraged face. Granger and the rest of the motley crew, however, looked more accepting, to Severus' disgust.

"Thank you, professor," Granger called out calmly. Severus eyed her for a moment and then whirled on his heel, knowing that it would give his robes a dramatic flip, and hurried away to his quarters where a fire and brandy awaited.

Hermione Granger watched his disappearing back with shrewd eyes. _You make friends in the strangest places Harry,_ she thought. Still, it gave her more hope for their plans for Draco Malfoy. If Harry could win the support of Snape, why couldn't he win over Malfoy? She smiled and turned to look at Ron. She winced when she saw his red face.

"What is _going on_?" he demanded to know. Hermione glanced up and down the hall, relieved to see only landscape portraits. If Snape's advice was sound, it would be better to have this conversation in the Room of Requirement.

"Be quiet, Ron!" Neville said before she could. The look he gave her was shrewd. "Do we need to go back in, Hermione?" he asked. Hermione nodded quickly and the group turned back to the Room of Requirement door, reopening the room they always used to hold discussions in.

"Alright, _what's_ going on?" Ron burst out the moment they were inside, the door shut behind him.

"These are letters from Harry, Ron!" Hermione said excitedly. Ron stared at the bundle of papers in her hands with a half hopeful, half horrified expression.

"Harry gave those to _Snape_?" he asked incredulously. "Why would he trust that grease-ball?"

Hermione gave him her best disapproving stare. However before she could lecture Ron, Luna cut in. "Professor Snape is a very good man Ronald," she said dreamily. "The Nargles approve of him."

Ron sighed. They had all learned throughout the last year that Luna's mad speeches weren't as mad as everyone thought they were. "Fine," he said petulantly. "But Harry better have a good explanation for me." He reached out his hand and Hermione sorted through the letters, locating the one that had Ron's name on the outside and handing it to him. She did the same for Neville and Luna, smiling at the way both of their faces lit up at the sight of Harry's handwriting.

They all settled in their chairs, individual letters settled in their laps. Hermione stared down at the familiar writing on the back of the envelope – she'd corrected that messy writing so many times over the course of her life that she knew it as well as she knew her own. She swallowed tightly, suddenly feeling close to tears. She'd waited a long year to hear from her friend and suddenly having a letter from him seemed like a dream.

"Shall we all open them together?" Luna asked her voice completely sane for once.

Ron looked pale. "Yeah," he said tightly. They all carefully took their envelope and opened them at the same time. Hermione's fingers were clumsy in her haste to open the folded paper – muggle notebook paper, she noted with a wry smile – and when she finally got it open she hurriedly scanned the words she saw there.

_Hey 'Mione,_

_I'm sorry it's been so long. Let's just say that this year has been . . . well, really interesting._

_Remus and I are fine, which you probably figured out from me being able to send a letter. We've had a few close calls this year, but we're someplace safe now. I don't think Dumbledore or anyone else will be able to find us here – or at least, I hope so._

_I know you were probably surprised by who brought this letter (that is, if Snape decided to give them to you himself. I wouldn't be surprised if he found a way to get them to end up mysteriously on your pillow one night). I know that you probably don't trust him, but I do. He helped me, Hermione. He helped Remus get me out of there and he's been helping us escape all year. I trust him with my life. Even more importantly, I trust him with yours and with the lives of everyone in our group. If you ever need help with anything, go to him. He'll help you, even if he snipes at you while he's doing it._

_Now, onto the reason that I wrote in the first place. I hope, despite my horrible letter-writing, you guys decided to help me out. I know that we have a lot to talk about when it comes to the events of the past year at least. I was hoping that maybe we could arrange a meeting? Remus and I have finally managed to set up a secure Floo, so you could come to where I am. Snape said he would bring you. I want to hear if you've managed to find anything, and, to be honest, I just kinda want to see you. It's been a long year, 'Mione and I need you guys. _

_Ron, Neville and Luna are all being invited as well, obviously. If you guys decide to come, we can meet this weekend, or whenever you want. Just make sure to get the day and time to Snape somehow (inconspicuously, of course. The Mugwump is watching.) and he'll bring you through._

_I also wanted to thank you. I know it can't have been easy to go this entire year with just a letter to explain everything, not to mention one as vague as mine was. I am incredibly lucky to have such great friends. I just wanted you to know how much I love you – all of you. I promise if you have any questions, I'll answer them as best as I can in person._

_Love,  
Harry_

_P.S. Do your best to convince Ron that Snape's not the paragon of evil, alright? I know he won't believe me on my own._

Hermione blinked away tears. She had been half-convinced all year that Harry was dead, and to see his writing, to feel his wry sense of humor coming off the page . . . It reassured her. Her best friend was alive and she would see him soon. Hermione looked up and saw that Ron was staring at his paper with a red face. She smiled and re-folded the letter so she could look at it later. There could be worse things than having Severus Snape on their side, she supposed. At least they'd never want for potions.

"Hermione!" Ron said angrily. "We need to talk him out of this—this _thing_ he has with Snape!"

Hermione clucked her tongue. "Honestly Ronald, you make it sound as if they're sleeping together!" Ron choked on his own spit and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Having Professor Snape on our side is a huge accomplishment Ron," she said briskly. "And I'm quite sure Harry wouldn't trust him without any reason."

"Yes Ron," Luna said dreamily. Her eyes, as she folded up her paper, were mistier than before. "As I've said, the Nargles think he is important."

Ron threw his hands up. "Yes, yes, the bloody Nargles!" he said in exasperation. They'd been hearing about the Nargles all year. "How could that git help in any way? He'll probably stab us in the backs the moment he has the chance!"

"He already had his chance, Ron," Hermione said. "If Harry gave him these letters, he must know where they are. He could've given him to Dumbledore or Voldemort, but he hasn't."

"Maybe he's just biding his time," Ron grumbled, unwilling to concede just yet.

"I don't think he is," Neville said calmly, folding his own letter. "We should give him a chance, Ron. If Harry trusts him, we can too, can't we?" Neville smiled.

Ron frowned, looking a little put-out. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "But I don't like it, and I don't like him either."

Hermione smiled, reaching over to pat her boyfriend's hand. "No one said you had to, Ron. Just accept it for now."

Neville turned to Hermione now that Ron was placated. "So, what time should we go?" he asked, knowing that it was a given that they would all want to go.

Hermione considered it. "The weekend might be best," she said slowly, considering the options. She knew that they all wanted to see Harry as soon as possible and the weekend was the best chance they had. "Isn't Hogsmede this weekend?"

"Yeah," Ron said. Suddenly he realized something and he pouted. "Does this mean we can't have our date?"

Hermione hit him on the shoulder with her envelope in exasperation. "Ronald! We're going to see Harry for the first time in a _year_ and all you can think about is a silly date!"

Ron grinned, relaxing for the first time since they'd gotten the letters. "Harry would understand," he said knowingly. "After all, he knows how it's taken us to date!" Hermione laughed.

Luna and Neville exchanged looks, smiling. They hadn't seen Hermione and Ron this playful with each other for a long time. Harry's letters couldn't have come at a better time, in Neville's opinion. They were all getting tenser with every passing month, with the growing escalation with the war and no letters from Harry. Just the thought of being able to see his friend, after a whole year of absence, was strange to Neville. So much had changed since Harry had gone away, and Neville had no doubt that Harry had changed as well.

"Everything will be fine," Luna said calmly, taking Neville's hand in her own. "The Nargles can see it."

Neville smiled at her, reassured by her calm. He had no idea what the Nargles represented, but he knew that Luna had never been wrong about a prediction yet and he trusted these strange creatures that she always referred to.

He could only hope that it would be alright. Still, whether or not everything had changed, he wanted quite desperately to see Harry and make sure he was okay. They all wanted that, to be honest.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stared at the book in his hands with a twinkle in his eyes. He'd found it! Finally, he had a solution to the problem that had been pestering him for the last year.

The spell in the book was complicated, he knew, but it could be done. Of course, it required blood and a very complicated potion that took time to brew . . . . He supposed he would have to ask Severus to make it for him. Albus closed the book with a frown. He didn't trust Severus. He had been there the night Harry had been taken away and Albus didn't believe he saw nothing. His attempts at finding out the truth had been too brusque – he'd been impatient for knowledge after finding that Harry had escaped his hold and had overplayed his hand. He'd paid the price for it too. Albus knew better now. He had to wait in the shadows, as he usually did, and wait for Severus to slip. He was the best spy Albus had ever known, but even the best make mistakes.

For now, he would ask Severus to make his potion. He doubted that the man knew where Lupin and Harry were hiding. Even if he did help them escape, that didn't mean that Lupin would trust someone who had taunted and hated him as a child and as an adult. Albus nodded to himself. Severus no doubt had no idea where Lupin and Harry were, even if he had helped them escape. If he didn't know where they were, he couldn't contact them to tell them about the potion Albus was having him make. Of course, Albus wasn't sure if he trusted Severus to make the potion correctly once he figured out what it was for, but he had little other choice – there were no other Potions Masters around that were talented enough to make such a delicate and complicated potion. He would just have to take his chances and hope that Severus would make it correctly so that he wouldn't show his hand.

Albus closed the book, revealing the title: _Darkest Spells Throughout the Ages_. He knew that if the public ever found out he owned the book, they wouldn't be very understanding about it. But Albus had carefully concealed his collection of Dark Arts books. The public never understood because they didn't realize that everything he did was for the Greater Good. And if that meant he had to use the Dark Arts he preached so religiously against, he would. Harry was needed to end Voldemort's reign of terror so that peace could be restored to the Wizarding World. Albus needed to find him no matter what.

Albus tapped the cover of the book, smiling underneath his beard. He would find Harry. The spell wouldn't fail. Finally, his boy would come and finish his destiny. Albus' face hardened. Whether he liked it or not. The time for running away was over – Harry _had_ to face his fate. Albus thought about the Horcrux he suspected was intertwined with Harry's psyche and magic and sighed. Well, sometimes heroes needed to die. There was nothing Albus could do about it except make sure that the boy would bring Voldemort with him. It would be a shame, of course – the boy was bright and his magic was very powerful. But there was nothing that could be done. He would be a martyr.

* * *

**Forks  
September 20th, 1997**

Edward brought Jasper to the Moon household a few days after the debacle on the day of the full moon. Jasper looked apprehensive. Edward could hear his thoughts running a mile a minute, considering how Harry would teach him how to control his gift, wondering if he could even be _taught_.

"It'll be fine," Edward reassured him. Jasper looked up at him and smiled.

Edward knocked cautiously at the door. He caught Harry's unique scent approaching the door and relaxed a little. He saw the sideways-glance Jasper sent him and wondered what kind of emotion he was getting. He was a little tempted to dive into his mind and find out, but Edward tried to respect his siblings' privacy as much as possible.

Harry opened the door, looking unsurprised to see them on his doorstep. He was dressed in comfortable clothes, as if he'd just gotten up. Edward frowned. It was already past one o'clock. Why would Harry just be getting out of bed? Edward took in the tired circles under his eyes and wondered if it had something to do with the episode a few days ago.

"C'mon inside," Harry said tiredly. "Faolan is out at the moment."

Edward stepped forward confidently, following Harry into the living room that he'd seen before. Jasper followed more cautiously, looking around more. Harry turned to look at them.

"I suppose you're here for Jasper's lesson," he rasped, sitting down in an armchair and taking a sip of tea.

"Unless it's a bad time?" Edward said when Jasper didn't speak.

Harry laughed and said, with a much smoother voice, "No, it's not a bad time. Jasper, come sit with me," he added, gesturing to the nearby couch. Jasper gingerly took a seat. Harry looked back at Edward. "I suppose you'll be staying?" he asked sardonically. Edward nodded. Harry sighed and turned towards Jasper.

"Tell me about your gift," he said, taking another sip of tea. "How do the emotions present themselves?"

Jasper's head tilted to the side thoughtfully. "Present themselves?" he asked.

"How do you feel them?" Harry elaborated. "Do they feel just like emotions, or do you feel them in different ways? For instance, some empaths feel emotions as weather – sadness could be rain, happiness could be sunshine, and so on."

"I feel them as emotions," Jasper explained a little hesitantly. He'd never really had to _describe_ his abilities before. Of course Carlisle had asked when he and Alice had joined the Cullens, and his sire had been curious as well. But they had never asked any detailed questions. "They have this tinge of . . . _other_ to them. It's hard to explain," he said.

Harry smiled. "No, that's how I feel them too," he said. "The good thing is that if we process the emotions the same, it'll be easier to teach you how to block them." Harry's head tilted to the side. "Can you manipulate emotions as well?"

Jasper tensed. "Yes," he said quietly.

Harry was looking at him in fascination. "I can't," he said baldly. "So there might be complications there. But we can try my method and then find another way if that doesn't work. Does that sound alright?"

Jasper nodded firmly. He was willing to try whatever he could. He'd been feeling people's emotions for over 100 years, without any way to keep them away. The best he'd been able to do was mute them as much as he could. However Harry decided to teach him to block the emotions, his teachings would be invaluable.

"What exactly are you teaching him?" Edward asked, looking a little wary.

"A form of Occlumency," Harry said, taking the last sip of tea. "It's a form of mind magic . . . although really, it's very similar to your Muggle meditation. It's just maintained at a much deeper level." Harry looked at Jasper. "Would you rather be inside or outside?" he asked politely.

"For what?" Jasper asked in apprehension. Harry grinned.

"You'll see," he teased. Jasper frowned at him.

"Outside," he said finally. Harry nodded.

"To the roof!" he exclaimed, laughing as he went up the stairs.

Edward and Jasper exchanged looks before going out the front door. They wasted no time in leaping off of a tree onto the roof of Harry's house. To their surprise, Harry soon arrived, wings stretched out and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Edward stared at them in frank fascination. Harry's wings were a thing of beauty, he decided. It was even more intriguing that he could fly on them.

"Sit down," Harry instructed Jasper. "Cross-legged."

Jasper complied. Nearby, Edward sat as well, watching the proceedings carefully. Harry, however, just ignored him and focused all of his attention on Jasper.

"Before we can even jump into Occlumency, you will need to establish a familiarity with meditation," he lectured, pacing in front of Jasper. "After that, we'll continue to find your mindscape and build shields around it that will keep out the emotions." He crouched in front of Jasper's seated form. "Have you ever meditated before?"

Jasper hesitated. "No," he admitted.

Harry smiled at him. "That's alright," he said. "It's pretty easy. Since you don't have a heartbeat, our options are a little limited but . . . . Can you feel your breathing?"

Jasper frowned. "No," he said. "It's just habit to keep breathing."

"So if you concentrated on your breathing to relax, it wouldn't do anything?"

"I do not believe so," Jasper said. "Should we try?"

"No, no," Harry said thoughtfully, taking a seat in the same position as Jasper. "We'll try something else first. Alright, this will actually be easier if you lay down." Jasper eyed him warily, but did as he was told. "I want you to concentrate on every part of your body, starting with your toes. Feel that part of the body, flex it, and then relax it. Keep doing this until you reach your head." He paused. "And try to breathe in and out on counts of seven, just to see if that does anything."

Harry stood and motioned to Edward to follow him. "We're going to leave you here," Harry explained to Jasper, who had opened an eye to watch them. "Faolan won't be home for another hour and a half, and it's better to have as much silence as possible. Since you're a vampire . . . well, that widens the amount of area that needs to be quiet. It's better if we're not around." He looked at Edward. "I'll hang out with your brother for a while. If the method doesn't work or you need help, call out and I'm sure he'll hear you." Sardonically, Harry tapped the side of his head. "One way or another."

Jasper smiled a little. "Alright," he said agreeably.

Harry turned to Edward. "I'll race you to the edge of the Tribe's territory," he said, grinning. He snapped out his wings. "Whoever loses has to pay for dinner."

Edward eyed his wings with interest, wondering just how fast they could go. "Alright," he said complacently, his eyes gleaming. "But I should warn you, I'm the fastest in our family."

"Oh, I'm so scared now," Harry said, laughing. "Good luck Jasper!" he cried out as he flapped his wings and took to the sky. Edward smiled at his brother before following at the tops of the trees, moving as fast as he could, feeling the exhilarating rush of wind in his hair.

"Well if you're the fastest vampire the Cullens have, I'd hate to see who the _slowest_ is," Harry said smugly as he landed in a clearing, only moments before Edward touched down.

"I'll pretend that it's because you didn't have any barriers in front of you," Edward said, mocking-prim. "Otherwise my ego will take a terrible blow."

"Well we can't have that now, can we?" Harry said, smiling. He blew a bit of his hair away from his face, making an exasperated expression. "Goddamned hair," he muttered, fishing around in his pocket for something. "One of these days I'll just chop it all off." He held out a rubber binder triumphantly and tied his hair into a tight high ponytail.

"You shouldn't," Edward said absently. "It looks good on you." He froze. He hadn't meant to say that aloud.

Harry, however, wasn't blushing or looking awkward. "You think?" he asked musingly. "Faolan's told me that too. I didn't grow it out to look good, so I guess I really have no idea if it suits me or not." He looked at the trees around them. "Will you need something to eat before we go into town?" he asked politely.

"It wouldn't bother you?" Edward asked. He knew that if he brought any human with him on his hunting trips, they'd be disgusted. But then again, he reminded himself, Harry wasn't anymore human than he was.

Harry looked amused. "Trust me, I've seen much worse, Edward," he said. Edward's inner beast shivered when he heard his name on Harry's lips. "Now, if you want something, hurry up and get it. I'm starved."

Edward shook his head. "I fed yesterday," he said. "How did you plan on getting into town? You can't fly there, people will see you."

"Thank you Mr. Obvious," Harry snarked. "I know I can't." He eyed Edward. "Think you're up for carrying me?"

Edward stiffened. "Carrying you?" he questioned, hoping Harry wasn't talking about what Edward thought he was talking about.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, _carrying_ me. You can run pretty fast, so we'll get into town quickly. And it's less conspicuous than flying." He eyed Edward carefully. "What's the matter with you? You look like I just offered to let you drink my blood or something."

Edward tried to smile. "Nothing," he said. "I can carry you."

He hoped he could. He didn't want to explain to Harry that something in his scent set off the beast within – that Harry's blood was tantalizing even from a distance, let alone when they were close together. Carrying Harry on his back would be pure torture, but Edward had had the will before and he was sure he could summon the strength now. He took a deep breath and then stopped breathing, hoping that it might help, in some small way. He wasn't surprised when it didn't.

Harry had stepped closer to him. "I think a piggy-back ride will be the least awkward position," he said, smirking a little. Edward bent at the knees, offering his back, and Harry carefully climbed on, knees tucked at Edward's sides and his arms around Edward's neck.

Immediately, all Edward could smell was Harry. He could feel Harry's blood pumping in the skin that was so tantalizingly close to his own, and hear the sound of Harry's breathing in his ear. Everything in him wanted to set Harry down and – well, he wasn't sure if he wanted to drink from him or just ravish him. It was disconcerting to feel this much desire for a person he had only just met, and whose secrets he felt were barely unraveled.

"Are you going to move or what, Edward?" Harry said impatiently. Edward fortified himself and then sprang into the air, going as fast as he possibly could. The sooner they got to town, the sooner Harry would move back to a respectable distance and Edward could regain better control of himself.

They passed through the forest quickly and soon arrived on the edges of the town. Edward came to a stop where the forest ended behind the single diner in Forks. Harry leapt off his back as soon as they had stopped, and Edward had to stop himself from feeling disappointed about that. He _wanted_ Harry to stay away. Edward sighed quietly to himself. Now if only he could actually convince his inner beast of that.

"Are you coming, Edward?" Harry called out as he strode ahead of the vampire, towards the diner. Edward quickly followed behind him.

The diner was empty except for a few teenage boys in one corner and a large man eating a hamburger in another. The waitress – a faded older lady who had probably been pretty in her youth, but now just looked tired and worn out – smiled at them as she led them to their table. Edward heard her thoughts about how nice-looking they both were, and how wonderful it was to have polite customers for a change. Edward decided to give her a tip. He knew all of the people in Forks, mostly from listening to their thoughts at one time or another, and there were some people that just weren't pleasant. He was sure that a lot of them frequented this diner.

"So, what're you having?" Harry asked smirking, knowing that Edward didn't eat human food.

Edward smiled a little. "I think I'll pass this time," he said.

Harry shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Edward watched as Harry started to look over the menu. He wondered what kind of food Harry liked. Harry was slim, yes, but Edward didn't think he was the type to watch what he ate or anything like that. Was he a vegetarian? Did he like meat? Edward knew so little about him. Of course, the major things he knew _were_ pretty big secrets but . . . he would like to know everything. Edward tensed at the thought. _You just met him,_ he thought angrily, staring down at the list of food he would never eat again. _This infatuation is dangerous._

The waitress came back. "What can I get for you darlings?" she asked.

"I'll just have water," Edward said, folding his menu back up. The waitress' eyebrows darted up, but she didn't say anything about it, instead just turning to Harry.

"I'll have your Turkey Sandwich," Harry said. "Only, can I get it without mayo?"

"Of course, hun," the waitress said.

"That and a coke," Harry added, handing over his menu to her with a smile.

"Alright, that'll be right out for you," the waitress said, turning to leave.

"Thanks so much," Harry called out to her, ignoring the sniggers that rose from the teenage boys at his words.

They sat in silence as they waited for their food. Harry stared out of the window at the dark sky outside and Edward just watched Harry closely, wondering what he was thinking. The silence inched on and on until Edward decided he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Why did you decide to move to Forks?" he asked.

Harry turned to him with a bemused stare. "What?"

"Why Forks?" Edward repeated patiently. "There are a lot of cities in America . . . why choose this one?"

Harry considered this. "Faolan chose it," he said finally. "It was probably because he knew the tribe and had run with them before. He probably figured we'd be safer here if we had people we could count on."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "What are you running from?" he asked lowly. Harry tensed and looked away from him. "You've mentioned how much you've moved, you're hiding a charm that conceals you from your kind, and you've talked about how you don't want to be found. What happened to you? Who's trying to find you?"

"Edward," Harry said, "this isn't something I want to talk about." He glanced around the diner. "Especially not here."

Edward growled lowly in frustration. If only he could read Harry's mind! "Just tell me what it is you're hiding from," he said.

Harry stared at him for a long time, then looked away. "I can't," he said, sounding almost guilty. "More than that, I don't want to. Your family knows all they need to know about me Edward – I'm a wizard, I'm an arcàngelo, I live with a true werewolf, and we both mean you no harm. Any of my other secrets, I'm keeping to myself, and that's the way it's going to be."

Edward searched Harry's face. "You're scared," he said. Harry had a good mask – an excellent one even – but Edward had 100 years of people-watching experience to back him. "Did they do something to you? Is that what this is?"

"Just drop it Edward," Harry snapped, attracting the attention of their waitress, who had just come to bring Harry's sandwich and the drinks. She eyed Edward warily.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked. Harry frowned heavily at Edward, and then turned to the waitress, adopting a light smile.

"Nothing ma'am," he said sweetly. "Just a little disagreement, that's all."

The waitress softened at the sight of the smile. "Alright then. Enjoy your meal honey," she said and turned away.

Harry turned back to Edward. "Just drop it, okay?" he pleaded. "You don't need to know. I don't know why you're even asking me." He picked up his sandwich and took a vicious bite out of it, avoiding Edward's eyes.

Edward was at a loss. He wanted to know, but Harry wouldn't tell him . . . and he couldn't get the information from Harry's mind. He hadn't been in this predicament since he'd been human and unable to read minds. Slowly, he sat back in his chair, staring at Harry, who was chewing his food and not looking at Edward. He would have to be patient. Harry would tell Edward when he trusted him. And now, more than anything, Edward wanted to know what was making Harry run, what had happened to him in the past. He didn't know _why_ he had this burning desire to know what had happened to Harry – but then, ever since he'd met the teen, he didn't have a reason for _any_ of his emotions towards Harry. They were just there.

"Alright," he said lowly. "I won't pry anymore."

Harry turned to look at him, and then smiled. "Thank you," he said, sounding truly grateful.

Edward smiled back. "You're welcome," he said warmly.

"Aw, the little lovers are back together now?"

Edward turned to see the teenage boys that had been hiding away in a corner standing nearby. The one that had spoken was dressed in a jean jacket and had an ugly sneer on his face. Edward sighed. These boys were a year behind him and Harry in school, and they thought that they were the best thing that had ever happened to Forks. He'd met teenagers like them in every school that he'd attended over the years and while this group wasn't the worst he'd met, they certainly weren't the best.

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Why so interested in our sex life?" he said, smirking. "Getting a little bi-curious, are we boys?"

The leader sputtered and then glared. "Fuck off," he said. "Just go do whatever faggots do in their spare time."

Harry sneered right back at him. "And you can go back and do whatever jackasses do in their spare time," he said, mockingly-sweet. "Go find someone to play with that actually cares what you say, okay boys?"

Harry stood, throwing down money on the table. Edward picked it back up and handed it to him. "I lost the race, remember?" he said, laying down his own money. "And you should take that sandwich with you."

"Nah, I can always make one of my own," Harry said, grinning a little. "Thanks for the service Marge!" he called out to the waitress. He looked at the group of boys, who were all glaring at him. "See you later boys," he said sardonically, bowing mockingly as he passed them.

Edward hid a smile as he followed Harry out of the diner. As soon as they were clear, Harry growled lowly. Edward was surprised by how wolfish it sounded and wondered if Harry hadn't picked up some habits from his guardian.

"Bloody idiots," Harry said sharply. "If any of the arrogant little shits decides to come near me again, I won't be responsible for what I do to them."

Edward smiled. "You've got a bit of a temper, don't you?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Harry gave him a look and Edward started to laugh. Harry looked so _disgruntled_.

"Tosser," Harry muttered. Edward tilted his head thoughtfully, recognizing the strangely worded insults.

"So you _are_ from England then, hm?" Edward asked, eyes gleaming. "I mean, none of us were sure if you were or not. Your accent is a bit . . . strange."

"And you didn't search any minds to find that little tidbit of information on me?" Harry asked, laughing a little. "I'm touched. But yes, I _am_ from England originally. Spent a lot of time in Scotland though," he added, looking a little wistful.

"Why?" Edward asked, wondering if Harry would tell him. The way Harry's expression closed immediately after the question gave him his answer.

"School," Harry said shortly. Edward wanted to ask more, but he knew he wouldn't get an answer. "Shall we go back and see how Jasper's doing?"

Edward eyed Harry's tense body for a moment before sighing, "Alright," he agreed. Harry darted into the trees, Edward following close behind. Once they were far away enough from town, Harry darted into the air, keeping above Edward as they head back to his house the long way.

Harry landed lightly on his roof five minutes later. He heard Edward climbing up the side, but his attention was focused on Jasper, who was in a deep meditative state. He smiled. It seemed that Jasper had a natural talent for it, to fall that deeply is the short time Harry had left him alone. Especially since it had been his first attempt. Harry crouched by Jasper's body, taking in his deep, even breaths and closed eyes.

"Your brother is good at this," Harry murmured. Jasper was deep enough now that their voices wouldn't disturb him. "Come on. We'll leave him here for a little while longer."

"Will he be able to get out of it on his own?" Edward asked, looking at his brother a little worriedly.

"If he's not, I can pull him out," Harry assured him. He paused, then looked at Edward. "And if I couldn't, you could. It's just a matter of reaching for his thoughts and taking him out of the calm that he's resting in now, that's all."

Edward raised an eyebrow. If the technique was to pull at a person's thoughts, how did Harry manage? "How would _you_ pull him out then?" he asked.

Harry paused in the act of stretching his wings. Edward had to tear his eyes away from the picture of him standing with them outstretched to process Harry's answer.

"I have a little training in Legilimency," Harry admitted. "It's the art of looking into people's minds. I don't have enough to dive deep or anything, not like you do, but I can skim the surface if I want to."

Edward's body tensed. Harry could do what _he_ could? Having a defense against it was strange enough, but the thought that there were others out there that could read thoughts as he could, that _Harry_ could read his thoughts if he so chose to do so . . . . If Edward hadn't already been deathly pale, he would've blanched. He didn't want Harry to know _anything_ he thought, even if it was just at the surface. _Is this how others would feel if they knew I was listening on them?_ Edward wondered. It must be.

Harry stretched again and Edward's eyes were drawn once more to the beautiful wings. "Let's go downstairs, shall we?"

Edward tilted his head as he heard the front door open. "Your guardian is home," he said.

Harry's eyes lit up and he immediately dived off the side of the house. Edward followed him, climbing down much less dramatically. He entered the front door to see Harry hugging Faolan tightly before jumping back and telling him about his day. Faolan was loaded down with shopping bags and he started to put them away, all the while listening to Harry. Edward hung back, watching the dynamic for a moment. They really did seem like father and son, he realized. But he knew what it was like to have an adopted father be more like family to you than your biological one. He wondered what had happened to Harry's parents. _There are so many secrets,_ he thought. _So many things to know about him, things I might never find out._ Faolan looked over and jumped when he spotted Edward.

"Edward! I didn't know you were here as well." He sent a look Harry's way.

"I thought you smelled him!" Harry protested. "Maybe you're getting a little old, hm, Faolan?" he teased, smirking. Faolan cuffed the back of his head lightly, grinning as well. Edward noticed the way Harry tensed moments before the touch and his eyes narrowed. Faolan had noticed as well, for the smile dropped from his face. Harry, noticing the subtle tension, looked up and smiled brightly. "So, did you get everything we needed?"

"Yes, yes, I got all of your food, Cub," Faolan said, sliding back into his easy humor.

Edward, however, hadn't let the moment pass, and still watched the both of them closely. He frowned as Faolan paused, sniffing the air before turning to the fireplace. Edward watched in fascination as the previously unlit fireplace spouted green flames before a tall and slightly ominous figure emerged. Edward recognized the man who had helped Harry before, the one that Harry had called Snape.

"Good you're here," Snape said when he saw they were gathered in the kitchen. He eyed Edward with dislike. "Doesn't your pet vampire have a home already?" Harry smiled a little. Edward, however, growled at the man, annoyed by the comment.

"Edward was just visiting with his brother," Harry said. "I'm teaching him Occlumency so he can block emotions. He's an empath as well."

Snape snorted. "_You_ are teaching Occlumency?"

Harry grinned. "I'm not all that bad now, actually," he said. "We'll have to have a little _training session_ on one of your visits, Snape." Snape eyed Harry carefully before smirking.

"Missing old times, Moon?" he sniped. Snape turned to Faolan. "I have news." Harry perked up and Snape, probably noticing the motion out of the corner of his eye, sighed heavily. "Yes, your little friends received your letters." Snape turned to look at Edward and then raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"It's fine if he knows about them," Harry said, answering the silent question. "But you'll have to leave if he has any _other_ news, alright Edward?" Harry added, turning towards the vampire anxiously. Edward frowned, but nodded. Snape inclined his head.

"Miss Granger has sent me a message implying that they will come at one o'clock this Saturday," he said simply.

"They're all coming?" Harry asked in delight. "Neville, Ron, Luna, and Hermione – all of them?"

"Yes, yes, all of them," Snape said impatiently. "Now, if we could move onto other, more _important_ things?"

Harry nodded, still looking excited. "Of course," he said. "Let me go wake Jasper up and he and Edward can head out—"

"No need," Jasper said in a rasp, stepping down the stairs. He looked tired, but there was a serene look on his face that Edward rarely saw these days. "I managed to wake myself up." He looked at Harry. "Thank you very much for your teachings." Snape snorted.

Harry shrugged. "I just told you what to do. You keep doing that, every morning and evening for the next week, and then you can come back and we'll work on your shields, alright?"

Jasper nodded. "That sounds fine." He started towards the front door. "Let's go, Edward."

Edward, however, didn't want to leave. He stared at Snape, Faolan and Harry. They were about to discuss Harry's secrets, he knew it. Part of him wished that he could just force his way in, and demand that Harry tell him everything there was to know about him.

"Edward," Harry said firmly. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Edward blinked and then sighed. Harry wouldn't let him stay. He could try hiding in the woods, but he wasn't sure how well Harry or his two older friends could sense him, and if he wanted Harry to trust him enough to reveal the secrets he was so desperately hiding . . . . Edward turned and headed for the door, following his brother.

"I'll see you tomorrow Harry," he said as he shut the door behind him.

"I'll see you at home," he said to Jasper.

He started to run, leaving Jasper and Harry's house behind him as he headed for home, away from Harry and away from Harry's secrets.

* * *

Remus waited until both of the vampires' scents had faded before he turned to Severus with a questioning eyebrow raised.

"What's going on, Severus?"

Severus sank heavily into a chair, looking a little worn around the edges. "Albus summoned me today."

Remus felt a moment's panic. "He doesn't know you've seen us, does he?" he questioned fearfully.

"No, not that," Severus said impatiently. "It's much worse than that." Severus took a deep breath. Harry and Remus exchanged looks. "He's found a ritual that can locate you."

Harry let out a long breath. "Even where we are now?" he asked, skeptically.

Severus frowned at him. "Even under Fidelius," he confirmed. "It's a very obscure Dark ritual. I've only read about it in the rarest Dark Arts books."

"Why did he tell you?" Remus questioned. "He's been suspicious of you, hasn't he?"

Severus smirked. "Yes, but the ritual requires a very complicated and complex potion in order to work. I'm the only Potions Master who can make it for him," he said. The smirk dropped. "As it is, he _didn't_ tell me about the ritual. But the potion required so many strange ingredients, that I decided to look it up. This particular potion is only used for one ritual – the one that Albus will use to find you."

"How does it work?" Harry asked, huddling in on himself.

"It locates the magic of the person," Severus explained. "The potion is to open the drinker up so that they can harness the wild magic that is necessary to find the magic of the person they're tracking. Without it, the magic would take control of the one who does the ritual and turn his magic against him." Severus sighed. "The ritual . . . it's very powerful and very dangerous. If even the slightest thing goes wrong with the potion, there's the possibility of the wild magic getting free and wrecking havoc. Not to mention that, when done properly, it can locate _anyone_, anywhere they are, no matter what spells they're under."

"And Dumbledore's going to use it?" Harry spat. "What a hypocrite."

Severus didn't smirk. "Even if he is, he's going to find you. And soon. The ritual takes a month to prepare for, and you can be sure that as soon as it's done, he'll perform it and have Aurors here faster than you can blink."

Harry's fury calmed in the face of Severus' analytical look. He sat down in his chair and sighed heavily.

"We can't run anymore, not if he has his ritual. He'll find us, wherever we are, and he can just use it again if we actually manage to slip past him." Harry buried his face in his hands.

Remus stared at his charge, not saying anything. He didn't care whether they returned to the Wizarding World tomorrow or ten years from now. Whatever Harry decided, he would be fine with. Finally, Harry pulled his head up and smiled weakly at Remus, looking very pale and a little nervous.

"I guess we'll be going home sooner than expected, huh Remus?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alright, here's the newest chapter! Sorry it took so long, but the inspiration for this story has been a bitch for the past few months. But updates will come faster this summer. Don't worry, Harry won't be leaving Forks immediately . . . but yeah, he will go back to the wizarding world eventually. Next chapter will have Hermione and the gang in it, and more Edward/Harry interaction.

**EDIT: **So sorry that I forgot about Pettigrew - I wrote this late at night and in a rush, so I didn't look over it and go - wait, that makes no sense. But geez, if you're going to point it out, can't you be a little less patronizing about it?


	10. Chapter Eight: Friends

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter Eight: Friends**

"Your friend is the man who knows all about you, and still likes you." (Elbert Hubard)

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather is one of those things that give value to survival." (C. S. Lewis)

"The better part of one's life consists of his friendships." (Abraham Lincoln)

"Though our communication wanes at times of absence, I'm aware of a strength that emanates in the background." (Claudette Renner)

* * *

**Forks, Washington  
****September 27****th****, 1997**

Harry paced impatiently across the living room. Remus, sitting in one of the nearby armchairs, watched him do so with amusement. Harry, over the course of the last year, had gained a lot of confidence – so much that Remus rarely saw him get nervous these days. Seeing him look so panicked in the face of a meeting with friends was a little amusing.

"It'll be fine," Remus finally said. Harry didn't stop pacing.

"How can you know?" he snapped. Then he sighed. "Sorry Remus," he said contritely, steps slowing a little. "I know you're trying to help." He ran a hand through his and finally sat down, though his leg started to shake impatiently.

"They're your _friends_, Harry," Remus reminded his charge gently, a little worried now.

"The friends I haven't seen for a year and that I left with only a letter of instructions before I disappeared! The friends who still don't know I'm an _arcàngelo_!" Harry cried. "What if they hate me?"

Remus smiled incredulously. "I doubt they'd be coming out to see you if they hated you, Harry."

"You never know," Harry muttered, looking ready to get up and pace again. "Maybe Ron just wants to punch me in the face in person."

"You know he'd never do that," Remus said, reaching across to place a hand on Harry's shaking knee. "Besides, Hermione would never allow it."

Harry smiled a little. "I guess not," he said. "But what if this year apart has made us . . . ."

"Less of friends?" Remus finished for him. Harry nodded. "It hasn't," Remus said strongly. "You, Ron and Hermione have all gone through too much together for that. Not to mention Neville and Luna! They followed you to the Department, remember? They'd follow you anywhere Harry and they all know you'd do the same for them. That kind of friendship doesn't fade just because you've been away for a while."

Harry paused. "Do you think I should've asked Ginny to come?" he asked, a little guiltily. "She was at the Department too."

Remus frowned. "Wasn't she not speaking to you before we left?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, yeah. But that was because she was a little miffed I turned her down for a date." He smiled a little. "I can't say I blame her. My first reaction wasn't really . . . accepting."

Remus smiled. "Just tell me that you didn't yell out gross. That's what Sirius did when Viola McNair asked him out seventh year. She never forgave him for it."

"Why was he grossed out?" Harry asked curiously. From what he'd heard of his godfather's years during Hogwarts, Sirius had been something of a manwhore. Or, as Remus put it, "if they had a hole and were breathing, Sirius would do them."

Remus grimaced. "She wasn't the prettiest girl in Hogwarts. She had had a bad case of the measles as a kid, and her face was all pockmarked . . . and she had a very strong unibrow. Not to mention that a beater for the Slytherin team and was built like a Crabbe or Goyle." Harry smiled a little. "Yeah, Sirius wasn't impressed. He liked to mess around, but he always liked the prettier people."

"Poor girl," Harry said. "But no, that's not what I did. I might have mentioned how much Ginny is like a sister to me, and that going on a date with her would be like going on a date with Hermione or Luna. She didn't take well to gaining another brother instead of a boyfriend."

"Well, she does have enough brothers," Remus said with a laugh. "I'm sure she's gotten over it by now though."

"I hope so," Harry said. "But then again, this long absence of mine probably wouldn't have endeared me to her. Especially if she finds out I was in touch with everybody else and not her."

"Why didn't you leave her something?" Remus asked curiously. Harry frowned.

"I don't know," he said uncertainly. "There wasn't much time, and . . . well, maybe it felt a little like I'd be implying something if I left a letter for her. Everyone else, we're all just friends, and I had something I wanted to ask them to do for me while I was gone. Ginny, on the other hand, wanted to date me, and I didn't have a favor to ask of her so . . . ."

"She might have taken the letter as more than it was," Remus finished. He sighed. "I don't think you give her enough credit. Ginny's smarter than that."

Harry sighed. "I know," he said. "Like I said, there wasn't much time, and I wasn't exactly thinking straight. I guess . . . I'll just make it up to her when we go back."

Remus sighed. "You know we don't have to. We can keep running."

Harry shook his head. "I'm tired of running, Remus, and I know you are too. What better time is there? When Dumbledore does this ritual, he'll be able to find us anyways . . . We might as well go back on our own terms."

"Do you think you're ready?" Remus asked. "Voldemort will be waiting when we get back, you know. And I doubt he'll keep away once you're back in his territory."

Harry's grin was a little sharp. "I think that bastard will be a little surprised when he comes after me, Remus. I'm not the same scared kid I was a year ago."

"That doesn't mean you're invincible," Remus said in his stern teacher voice.

Harry sighed. "No, I'm not," he said patiently. "But I won't be as easy to get as I might have been a year ago. I may not be ready to take Voldemort out yet, Remus, but I can protect myself just fine."

Remus smiled. "I know you're right," he admitted. "But I can't help but worry."

Harry was about to make a teasing comment about mother-hens when the fireplace flared green. He stiffened immediately, his eyes fixed on the green flames. Snape was the first to step out, looking irritated. Harry tensed as Hermione immediately followed him. She took in the living room quickly before she finally fixed on Harry. Harry was alarmed to see her eyes fill with tears.

"Hermione—" he started, but then the fireplace flared again and Ron stepped in, looking a little green around the edges from the floo travel. He was followed almost immediately by Neville and then Luna, who both looked calm and collected.

Harry's entire body was tight with tension. The living room was silent as he stared at his friends and they stared back at him. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

"Oh, _Harry_," she cried, and threw herself at him.

Harry, after years of receiving Hermione's impulsive and strong hugs, caught her on instinct alone. He hugged her tightly to him, burying his face in her hair. He didn't hear any of the others approaching, but he felt arms encircling both Hermione and himself and he smiled as he smelled the cologne Ron had taken to wearing two years ago. Ron was taller now than he'd been a year ago, and his arms encircled both Harry and Hermione, pulling them roughly into a chest that was becoming very broad indeed.

"You're so _stupid_ Harry," he heard Ron mutter into his hair. "Leaving us behind like that, rushing off to Merlin knows where—"

"Sorry," Harry muttered back, knowing Ron would hear him. His friend gave a choked laugh and tightened his hold before letting go.

"I know you are," he said, stepping back. Harry smiled up at him, his arms still around Hermione. Ron still looked the same around his face – the bright blue eyes and choppy red hair was just as he remembered it. But there was a new maturity in his face – whether it was from the baby fat he'd lost or what he'd had to deal with this last was a mystery to Harry.

"It's good to see you again, Ron," he said quietly. Ron grinned back down at him. Harry was relieved to see that Ron's grin hadn't changed in the least.

"Same here mate," he said roughly. "You've been giving this one no end of worry," he added, gesturing to Hermione.

Ron didn't need to add how much worry Harry had caused _him_ as well. Hermione finally backed out of Harry's arms, wiping her eyes to glare at Ron. Harry was startled to realize that her hair had tamed into a massy of glossy curls – no longer frizzy or poofy. He had seen it start to transform last year, of course, but it was still startling to see. However, Hermione, besides the hair, looked as she always did.

"Ronald Weasley, don't imply that my worrying was somehow misplaced!" Hermione snapped. "It was perfectly reasonable! Harry had disappeared without any word about where he was going, or why he _really_ had to leave—"

Harry smiled. He'd half-missed their arguments – it was so part of their dynamic that it would be strange for them _not_ to argue. They didn't notice as he quietly moved around them to Neville and Luna, who stood by Remus, speaking quietly to him.

Out of all of them, Neville had changed the most. He'd gained height, and the chubbiness that had seemed a permenant part of his features had faded away, leaving him lean. His face retained its round, almost puppy-ish qualities, but there was a calm confidence there now that Harry had rarely seen on Neville before. He held himself assertively, without the hunched shoulders he'd used in the past. Harry smiled, pleased by the changes. He'd loved Neville as he'd been, but it was nice to see that his friend was growing into himself comfortably. Luna, on the other hand, looked as she always has. In fact, she looked almost exactly as she had last year.

"Neville, Luna," Harry said warmly, stepping towards them. They turned and regarded him with bright smiles.

He gathered Luna into a warm hug and then turned around and did the same for Neville, much to the other boy's surprise. Harry knew why he was surprised – Harry rarely hugged anyone of his free will. More often than not, anyone who hugged him made the first move. But Harry couldn't help himself. He was just so happy to see them, to see that they were safe and didn't hate him for abandoning them.

"Well isn't this just a precious reunion," Snape sneered from the armchair he had commandeered for himself. Harry snorted and turned to the man. "I _hate_ to break up all the sniveling, but we _are_ on the time limit."

Harry nodded, smiling a little. "Of course, Professor," he said with amusement. He felt more than saw the shocked look Ron gave him. In all the time that they had known each other, neither of them had used that title towards Snape with any of the respect Harry had just used.

He turned to his friends. "Sit," he said, taking his own seat on the arm of Remus' armchair, earning an amused look from his guardian.

The four of them all sat down on the couch. Their attention was riveted on Harry, who shifted a little uncomfortably under the attention. There was silence for a moment before Hermione once again decided to break it.

"Harry, what happened to you?" she asked, only curiosity in her voice. "Your face has . . . _changed_."

Snape shot an incredulous look at Harry that spoke words about how he felt about Harry keeping his condition secret from his friends. Harry was sure that Snape was surprised that Harry managed to keep his mouth shut about some of his secrets for once. Harry bit his lip, wondering how he was supposed to explain that he was Dark Creature now. Was this how Remus had felt, explaining his condition to his friends. _No, they found out on their own,_ Harry remembered. He sighed.

"Well, I've gone through some . . . changes," Harry started, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. His friends all exchanged looks and sighed deeply, nearly in unison.

"You haven't turned into a vampire, have you?" Ron asked wearily.

"Well no—" Harry started.

"Probably a Veela then," Neville interrupted morosely.

"He's probably a hybrid," Hermione informed them all, sounding a little resigned herself. "Technically, they're not supposed to exist since different species can't produce a child between them, but since its _Harry_ . . . ."

"Hey!" Harry protested, amused at his friends' conclusions. He supposed that they had reason to guess those occurrences: a number of odd things _did_ happen to him. "It's none of those things. I became, um, an . . . _arcàngelo_."

There was silence in the room for a moment. Then, in unison, Ron and Neville turned to Hermione.

She gave them a look and sighed. "It's Italian for archangel. The line carries on into the males, and goes dormant in the females. They're . . . well, I suppose quite a bit like a Veela. They're stronger and faster than humans, and they control elements. Some of them have Magic Sight or empathetic abilities. They also have wings and can transform into an Animagus more easily than the average wizard."

"Lucky!" Ron interjected. Hermione gave him a withering look.

"_Anyways_. I thought that they were supposed to be extinct." She turned an expectant look towards Harry.

"Uh—" he said. "I got it from my mom. That's about all I know," he admitted sheepishly. Hermione pursed her lips.

"I'll look into it when we get back," she promised. Harry smiled at her.

"Thanks Hermione," he said genuinely. He could always count on Hermione to research anything for him.

"So you're one of the arcan—archangels?" Ron asked, regarding Harry with curious eyes.

"Yup," Harry said, grinning. "I came into my inheritance last year on my birthday."

"Blimey," Ron muttered. "It always happens to you, doesn't it Harry?" Harry was glad not to hear any bitterness in his friend's tone.

"Yeah, I guess it always does," Harry said, smiling a little.

"It's because Harry's special," Luna declared, giving Harry a dreamy smile. Snape gave a very pointed snort, but they all ignored him.

"Yeah, _special_," Harry muttered. He didn't think of it that way. He looked up and saw Hermione was giving him one of her Looks. "What?" he asked.

"What happened, Harry?" she questioned gently. "You just up and left, without any warning. And your explanation . . . well it made sense, of course, by why did you _need_ to leave _right away_?"

Harry winced. He didn't want to explain this to his friends at all. They didn't need to know about his past, about what the Dursleys had done to him. He bit his lip and looked away from Hermione, wondering what he should tell her. He caught Snape's eye – the man was watching him intently. Harry remembered that Snape had been there when Remus had gotten him out of the house – the man _had_ to know that the Dursleys had . . . done what they had done to him. He wondered if Snape pitied him and scowled at the thought. He didn't _want_ Snape's pity; he wanted the man's _respect_.

"Does it matter?" he snapped, irritated now. "What's done is done."

He turned to see Hermione regarding him curiously. "Something happened," she murmured, too perceptive for her own good. Harry scowled. "Why can't you just tell us Harry?"

"You don't _need_ to know!" Harry said, desperate to get Hermione away from the subject. "It doesn't _matter_ now!"

"It has to do with your relatives, doesn't it?" Ron said. Harry stared at him, surprised by the perceptive revelation. Ron had never been one to be intuitive. Ron shrugged. "They've always been beastly to you," he said honestly. "And they're who you were staying with last summer."

"Harry?" Hermione asked cautiously, watching him closely. "Did it have to do with the Dursleys? Did they . . . do something?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Snape snapped, sitting forward in his chair. "Either tell them what happened Potter, or move on to something else. All these needless driveling is giving me a headache, and we don't have _time_ for it."

"Fine!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Fine, you want to know?"

"Harry—" Remus tried to stop him, but Harry didn't listen to him. Instead he got to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace.

"I got beaten within an inch of my life a few days before Remus came to get me," he said bluntly, ignoring Hermione and Neville's gasps, and Ron's angry face. Even Luna looked strangely focused. "Vernon hates me and just wanted an excuse to get back at me for not telling him Sirius had died when I threatened him over the summer with my murdering godfather should he attempt to make me his slave." Harry didn't notice the way Snape smirked, an eyebrow raising at the revelation. "I nearly died. I would've if Remus hadn't come to get me, _against Dumbledore's wishes_. So we left. I wanted to train for the fight with Voldemort and Remus didn't want me near Dumbledore, so we left. Happy now?" He bared his teeth in a parody of a grin.

"Oh, _Harry_," Hermione said, her hands held up to her mouth in horror. "They _beat_ you?"

"Stop it," Harry cried, dismayed by the emotion he could read in her face. "I don't want to be _pitied_, Hermione!"

"Isn't _that_ a first," Snape murmured, but everyone once again ignored him.

"I just want to leave it in the _past_ okay?" Harry said, his shoulders raised defensively. "What's done is done. I've moved past it, there's no reason for you all to dwell on it either."

Ron still looked angry. He opened his mouth to say something, but Neville jabbed an elbow into his side. Ron looked down at Neville, who was watching Harry closely.

"If you're sure, Harry," Neville said quietly. Hermione gave him a betrayed look, but Neville didn't look at her. "We'll leave it alone." He shot Hermione a look, and she sighed and relented.

There was a stretch of silence. All of the friends felt vaguely uncomfortable around each other after the confrontation. Harry, still pacing in front of the fireplace, finally turned towards them with a sigh. He was about to ask how they were doing when he was interupted by Luna.

"You didn't send us any letters, Harry," she said dreamily. Harry started, then remembered that he had promised more letters in the ones he'd left them last year.

"No, I didn't," he said, a little guiltily.

"You said you would," she reminded him gently. Harry ran a hand through his hair agitatedly.

"I know I did," he said. "But after I left . . . well, for one I wasn't sure how to get an owl to you without Dumbledore noticing. He was probably keeping close tabs on you just in case I tried it. And . . . well, I wasn't sure how much you'd want to hear from me." He decided that being as honest as possible was the best way to proceed.

"What?" Ron protested loudly. "Why would you think _that_? Of course we wanted to hear from you!"

"Sometimes we thought you were dead, Harry," Neville added softly. Harry's guilt increased triple-fold. He really hadn't meant to worry them so.

"It's probably better that you didn't," Hermione said bluntly. Ron gaped at her and she glared at him. "He's right! The Headmaster was watching us all pretty carefully this past year. He knows we're the closest friends Harry has and that if contacted anyone, it'd be us. As soon as any unusual owls arrived, we'd be "questioned" about it, make no mistake." Hermione smiled at Harry. "I still would've liked to hear from you, of course, but that doesn't mean it wasn't a good plan of action." Hermione didn't notice the way Snape's eyebrow rose, impressed at the logical thought process.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, surprised by her calm reaction.

Out of them all, he'd thought she would be the most upset that he hadn't written. She always seemed to worry about him the most – more so even than Ron, who, after the whole debacle with the Triwizard Tournament, had started to think of him as a little brother and reacted in an accordingly overprotective manner.

There was another stretch of silence between them all before Snape gave an impatient sigh.

"May I remind you all that we do not have _that_ much time," Snape insisted, once the silence had stretched again. "The Headmaster will assume you are all in Hogsmede for a good few hours, but the longer you are away, the greater chance he'll realize you aren't with your classmates."

"It's Hogsmede weekend?" Harry asked, a little wistfully. He'd always liked visiting Hogsmede.

"Yeah," Ron said with a grin. "By the way, mate, you owe me. I gave up a date with Hermione for this meeting."

"Ron!" Hermione protested, blushing a little. Harry grinned at them both.

"You're finally together then?" he asked happily. They nodded. "It's about bloody time!"

"The sentiments of the entire school, Mr. Potter," Snape said dryly.

Harry laughed. All of his friends started at the sound – not only because it had been so long since they'd heard it, but also because _Snape_ had been the one to draw it out of Harry. They all exchanged looks. It appeared as if more than one thing had changed during the past year.

"Alright, so since Snape is _itching_ to get back to Hogwarts, we'd better move forward," Harry said, still smiling. "Neville, how's DA going?"

Neville lit up. "It's going great, Harry!" he said. "We've got a good portion of every year, from first to seventh. We divide it up among the five of us, actually, and we each rotate to each section. Usually we keep the first and second years together, then the third, fourth, then fifth and sixth, and seventh is on their own. They're all coming along pretty nicely."

"Is the DADA professor really bad this year?" Harry asked worriedly. Snape's snort told him all he needed to know.

"She's not very . . . practiced," Neville said diplomatically.

"Oh please," Ron said dismissively. "She's bloody useless. She can barely do _Expelliarmus_ right and she teaches the wrong wand movements whenever she teaches a new spell. If it wasn't for DA, the firsties wouldn't have a clue what they were doing."

"Professor Blackburn isn't that bad!" Hermione protested. "She's just inexperienced. She's only, what, twenty-five?"

"Youth does not excuse incompetence, Miss Granger," Snape said silkily. Harry shook his head.

"Just because you became Potions Master at nineteen doesn't mean everyone else is a genius in their early adulthood, Snape," he said. Snape gave him a Look. "What? Remus told me." The Look was transferred onto Remus, who waved his hands innocently.

"Harry wanted to know about you, that's all." Snape eyed him for a moment, the grumbled under his breath about nosy brats and their moronic guardians. The teenagers all exchanged grins.

"What about you, Ron?" Harry questioned after a moment. "What does the entire school think I'm doing right now?"

"Becoming a ninja," Ron said smugly. "Also, you may or may not be hiding out in Canada, tackling grizzly bears in your spare time."

Harry threw back his head and laughed. "You took my suggestion to heart then?"

Ron shrugged nonchalantly, though his smile betrayed his enjoyment in the joke. "Well, I can't let a perfectly good idea like that go to waste, now can I?"

"Exactly," Harry agreed, mocking solemn for all of a minute before he burst out laughing again.

Ron watched his friend happily. It felt good to make Harry laugh again. During their first year, Harry had rarely laughed – and, with his "family" being the way they were, Ron now understood why – but throughout their second and third year he'd laughed a lot, usually at Ron's many jokes. It was during their fourth year, with their falling out, that Ron lost his ability to make Harry laugh as much as he'd been able to do before. Ron liked making Harry laughed. He'd seen his best friend unhappy too many times to count and, knowing a little bit more about his history, it made even more determined to make Harry as happy as possible. He glanced over at Hermione and his ears warmed when he noticed the approving smile she was giving him. He glanced back over at Harry when his laughter finally started to die down, hoping his blush would fade.

"Geez," Harry said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Haven't laughed like that in a while." He took a deep breath and then turned to Luna. "So, any visions Luna?"

Luna smiled at him dreamily. "Only snatches, Harry," she said softly. "Mere whispers of what the future holds. Although . . . I've seen that Forks will be influential in our war. Or, more specifically, _creatures_ from Forks." Snape watched her closely. Harry wondered if he'd suspected that Luna had the Sight, for he was taking the news pretty well.

"The Cullens," Harry sighed. Remus nodded.

"Probably Billy's clan as well," he admitted.

"There are creatures here?" Hermione asked, surprised. "What are they?"

"Shapeshifters and vampires," Harry said, amused at her shocked look.

"Vampires! Harry, why haven't you chased them off yet? Who knows what they're doing to the poor humans here—"

"They're vegetarians," Harry said. "The _Cullens_, Hermione."

Hermione blinked, before the name dawned on her. Her hand came up to her mouth. "Oh. Oh! They're led by Carlisle Cullen, aren't they?"

"Who's he?" Ron asked.

"He's a vampire," Hermione answered absently, obviously thinking about the Cullens and how they could help in the war. "He feeds only on animal blood, as does his entire coven."

"Really?" Neville asked in surprise. "Isn't that unusual?"

"For vampires? Yes," Remus answered, as Hermione seemed to be lost in thought. "But the Cullens are unique."

"How many are there?" Ron asked, intrigued by these strange vampires.

"Seven," Harry answered, his eyes on Hermione. "Carlisle's wife Esme, as well as their "children" – Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie, Alice and Edward."

"Those names sound very . . . elegant," Neville said, with a little amusement. Harry laughed.

"Well, the wizarding world has names like Draco and Lucius – can we really point fingers?" he said.

Neville laughed a little, but then his face darkened. "That reminds me. Harry, I know you asked that I recruit Slytherins for DA, but they've all been pretty resistant. I've managed to get some of the younger years, but the seventh years . . . well, not many of them have cooperated. Especially . . . Malfoy."

Harry frowned. "Have you spoken to him?"

Neville flushed. "Well, no." Harry chuckled. "I just don't think he'd take it seriously come from me. He may hate you, Harry, but at least he _respects_ you." Neville shot a look in Snape's direction. "And you've shown that you can make . . . _friends_ in unusual places."

Harry eyed Snape as well. The man seemed to be ignoring their scrutiny. "You want me to talk to him when I get back," he said finally, making a statement instead of a question.

"Yeah, pretty much," Neville admitted. "I just think he'll take it better from you." The _he probably won't use the Jelly Legs Curse on you_ went unsaid. Harry sighed.

"I think you should be more confident, Neville," he said softly. "But if you really want me to talk to him, I can."

"When do you think you'll be back?" Ron asked, trying not to let his eagerness show.

Hermione had coached him very sternly before they'd left not to pressure Harry into re-joining them at Hogwarts. But Ron wanted him back. It was great, having a girlfriend and Hermione _was_ one of his best friends, but there were some things that he could only share and enjoy with Harry and he'd missed having him to turn to over the year.

Harry exchanged a look with Remus. "We're thinking within a month," Harry said slowly. "It'll be soon."

Hermione's brow wrinkled. "But why? I mean, Harry's still not ready to face . . . V-Voldemort, is he?"

Remus smiled thinly. "Well, no he's not. He's getting there, however, and it is time we returned home."

Snape snorted. "You're not going to tell them, wolf?"

Heads swiveled towards him. "Tell us _what_?" Hermione asked suspiciously, her head swinging between Remus and Snape.

"I thought they shouldn't know," Remus said calmly, "in case Dumbledore decides to search their minds."

Snape snorted. "I will be shielding these memories, Lupin," he said, disdainful that Remus hadn't assumed he'd already planned for that little inconvenience.

"Isn't that draining?" Harry asked with concern.

Snape sneered at him. "It is one memory in a sea of thousands, and it will only be for however long it takes you to come back to England. I believe I can handle it."

"Thank you Professor," Harry said, smiling a little.

"How can _he_ shield _our_ memories?" Ron asked suspiciously.

Snape turned to him. "I will be entering your minds at the end of this visit, Mr. Weasley, and erecting a barrier around these memories that Dumbledore will not be able to break without destroying the memory."

Ron paled. "You're going inside our _heads_?"

Snape sneered. "I like it less than you do, Weasley," he said with disgust.

Harry sighed. "It's better this way, Ron. Dumbledore won't be able to see that you've visited me." He turned to Hermione. "Which reminds me – have you found anything out about him?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well, _of course_," she said. She reached into the bag she'd brought with her and pulled out a thick folder, setting it down on the coffee table. "That's everything I've been able to gather so far. There's probably more though."

Harry picked it up and skimmed it, taking in the dozens of documents and neatly written reports Hermione had included. "This is _great_, Hermione," he said genuinely. Hermione beamed at the praise. "Does this have stuff from Grindelwald's reign?"

Hermione frowned. "Some," she said. "But there are some large gaps. All I could really find was that Dumbledore had some connection to Grindelwald besides being his enemy – he was his friend, maybe his lover even."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Dumbledore's gay?" he asked. "I'd always thought he and McGonagall . . . ."

Snape snorted. "They've only ever been good friends, Potter," he said.

Harry shook his head. "Not to mention, involved with _Grindelwald_? Was this before or after he went insane?"

"Before," Hermione said, frowning still. "But they obviously had a falling out somehow. I just can't find out _why_ they split from each other."

"Well, we'll find out eventually," Harry said, setting the folder down. "Just having evidence that Dumbledore was involved with Grindelwald is incriminating enough."

"And what, pray tell, is this information _for_, exactly?" Snape drawled.

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione. "That's for us to know and you to puzzle out, Professor," he said firmly. Snape raised an elegant eyebrow, but said nothing more about it.

"So, why do you need to leave in a month again?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her nose. Harry and Remus exchanged looks.

"Dumbledore is performing a ritual to find us," Harry said. "Professor Snape has told us that it will be completed in a month and be able to find us, no matter we are."

Ron paled. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

"So you're going back on your own terms?" Neville said. "That's probably better than being dragged back kicking and screaming."

Harry smiled. "Exactly. Besides, it's probably time we stopped running. I have responsibilities to attend to back home."

There was silence as they all thought of the upcoming war. Finally, Harry sighed, standing up and stretching.

"So," he said, "do you want the grand tour? There's not much to show, of course, but . . . ."

"Of course we would!" Hermione declared, rising to her feet, happy with the change of subject. "This really is a lovely place, Harry."

Harry smiled. "It is, isn't it? It belonged to old sheriff, actually. According to the real estate agent, he left because he met a special lady in California when he was there on vacation. Apparently she didn't want to move away from the sun," he added with a grin.

"How romantic," Ron said dryly."Now, are you going to show us around or just stand around talking about it?"

The five teens left the living room, chattering amongst each other about the events of the last year and about the house.

* * *

Harry frowned as he tried, for the third time, to start his car. When it refused to start _yet again_, he sat back in frustration and stared at it, as if hoping it would magically start on its own. This was the first time it had given him any trouble. He wondered if this was revenge for letting it come close to empty one too many times. Maybe cars had a sadistic streak.

"Harry?"

Harry groaned. _Of all the people . . . ._

"Yes, Edward?" he said, mockingly sweet. "Was there something you wanted?"

Edward frowned. Even his frown was pretty, to Harry's disgruntlement.

"Do you need a ride home? Your car isn't starting."

Harry threw his hands up. "Really? I had no bloody idea. I was just sitting here for my own enjoyment, but now that you've _informed_ me that my car isn't _starting_—"

Edward smiled. "No need to get snippy," he said. Harry blinked, then chuckled. Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Never thought I'd hear you use the word snippy," Harry explained, his bad mood lessened a little. He smiled at Edward. "Is your offer of a ride still good, despite my _snippy_ behavior?"

"Of course," Edward said gallantly. "I'm sure your father can get your car transported back to your house somehow."

Harry sighed and patted his car's dashboard. "Sorry, old buddy," he said. "It might just be the end of the road for you."

He climbed out, jumping a little to reach the ground. His truck was really quite large. With Edward at his elbow, he was directed a shiny silver Volvo. Harry frowned at it. It looked so . . . sleek. He didn't like modern cars that much. They all looked the same to him.

"Something the matter?" Edward asked as Harry slipped into the passenger seat, still scowling.

"Don't you get tired of riding in this?" he asked.

Edward blinked at him. "What do you mean?" he asked as he started the car.

"This car. I mean, it's nice and all . . . but it doesn't really have any character, does it? Not like _my_ car."

"You mean, _your_ car – the one that didn't start just ten minutes ago?" Edward said with amusement. Harry deflated.

"Well, when you put it like that . . . ." he said. "But seriously, wouldn't you rather ride something that has a personality? All these modern cars just look like . . . I dunno, square boxes. I can't tell any of them apart."

"Maybe that's because you don't know much about cars," Edward offered. Harry scowled at him.

"Why do think I don't know anything about cars?" he demanded.

Edward smiled. "Because if you did, you'd know that your left your car door open this morning and the battery drained out with the lights on."

"Damnit!" Harry swore. "Does that mean I have to get a new battery?"

"Unless you can restart your old one," Edward said calmly. Harry eyed him suspiciously.

"Can't you use another car to jumpstart yours? Why didn't we just use yours to do that?"

"One, because I don't have the necessary cables in my car," Edward said, unperturbed by the accusation, "Two, because I wanted to drive you home."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why?" he asked.

Edward smiled enigmatically. "No particular reason," he said. "I guess I just want to get to know you better."

Harry snorted. "Why would you want to get to know _me_?"

Edward gave him a sidelong look. "You're interesting," he said finally. Harry tilted his head in thought.

"It's because you can't read my mind," he decided. Edward started, and it was only his vampire reflexes that kept them from driving into a ditch.

"What?" he said.

"My mind," Harry explained patiently. "You can't read it, that's why you're so interested in me. Bet there's never been anyone's mind you haven't been able to read until now. If you _could_ read my mind, you wouldn't be half as interested."

"That's what you think?" Edward asked in surprise. Harry nodded sharply. Edward sighed. "Well, it is _part_ of the reason, I guess. But the rest is . . . I really do think you're interesting, Harry. I've never met anyone like you before."

Harry, to Edward's amusement, had started to blush a little. He'd never seen Harry blush before and he took in the sight avidly out of the corner of his eye.

"Thanks, I guess," Harry muttered awkwardly. Edward supposed that he wasn't too used to compliments. "So, what do you want to know?"

Edward thought on it. "Favorite color?" he offered, deciding to start with the basics.

Harry laughed loudly. "Blue," he said finally, still chuckling. "My favorite color's blue."

* * *

"Master, we have a problem."

Dark red eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "A problem?"

"You know of the Cullens in Forks."

A white hand waved through the air. "Of course, of course. What of them? Have they revealed themselves?"

"No, Master. But they have befriended a newcomer to Forks. His guardian is a werewolf . . . a _true_ werewolf."

He leaned back. "I see. Is this the only . . . _problem_?"

A sigh. "No, master. You see, the newcomer they have befriended . . . he is _arcàngelo_."

A heavy indrawn breath. "_Arcàngelo_? You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes, Master. I have seen his wings – he could be nothing else."

He leaned back in his chair. "Well. I have not seen an arcàngelo in many years. To think that one would go to _Forks_, of all places . . . . You say the Cullens have befriended him?"

"Yes."

Red eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Hm. Well, I suppose we must go pay this arcàngelo a visit. If he is a threat . . . we will have to eliminate the _problem_."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Short chapter, but there'll be a new one next week, so don't fret! I'll bet the Twilight fans who read this will be able to figure out who was in the last scene . . . or at least guess. Yes, Harry won't be leaving Forks immediately, nor will he be leaving without a fight from Edward. Next chapter, we'll see more of the people at the end of this chapter, Dumbles, Voldy and more Edward and Harry!


	11. Chapter Nine: Alliances

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter Nine: Alliances**

When you are older, you will understand that there is no peace among men for long without threat of war, and much of peace is at the cost of others. (Mordred, Bastard Son by Douglass Cleggs)

* * *

**Forks, Washington  
****October 3****rd****, 1997**

Harry sighed as he flew silently over the trees of Forks. Above him, the moon was waning, turning from full to nothing more than a half moon, already inching its way to a crescent. Stars dotted the skies, shining more brilliantly without any city lights to hinder them. Even up in the air, he could catch the scent of the trees below.

He found that he didn't really want to leave this place. It was peaceful in Forks, and beautiful, even with the rain. He could fly when he wanted to, as long as it was dark and he stayed above the forest, and he had made . . . friends here, with the shapeshifters of course, as well as, in their own way, the Cullens. Harry smiled a little. He liked it here.

But that didn't change the fact that they now only had a little over three weeks before Dumbledore would be prepared for his ritual. Harry sighed again. Did he want to go back? A little bit, yes. He missed the wizarding world. He missed being able to perform magic without the fear that it might be detected somehow. He missed Hogwarts, and being able to see his friends every day.

But the problem was it wasn't only those good things that were waiting for him back home. The war was waiting for him back there, and he had no doubt that as soon as he came back he'd be thrown in the middle of it once more. Dumbledore would likely keep an even closer eye on him now that he'd disappeared – not that he could really do anything to Harry, since he was of legal age now. But still, managing under the old coot's supervision would be irritating. And, of course, there was Voldemort.

Harry frowned, switching directions to go around in a circle as he thought. Voldemort was a puzzle. The last time Harry had seen him had been in the Department of Secrets, where he had been enraged and slightly mad. However, someone who was as mad as Voldemort was supposed to be wouldn't hold off the search for Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Foiled-Him-Every-Bloody-Time, to focus his attention in Britain. That was the action of a calculating leader, not an insane one. Which meant that Voldemort wasn't insane. Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

He knew that he still _wanted_ to kill Voldemort. Voldemort was responsible for most of the bad things that had happened to him in his life – his parents' death, being brought up by the Dursleys, all of the school escapades, Cedric's and Sirius' deaths . . . . Harry knew that if he hated anyone, it was Voldemort. The only way that he could finally be free was to kill Voldemort – otherwise Dumbledore would never stop searching for him, and he could never go home without Voldemort coming after him. The only way Harry could live the life he wanted was to get rid of Voldemort. And to do that, he needed to leave Forks.

Harry sighed. He'd been thinking, over the past few days, about how he could get an advantage over Voldemort. Of course, the Dark Lord was unaware that Harry was an arcàngelo, and that was a significant surprise in his favor, but Harry still wasn't more powerful. Voldemort was not only one of the smartest wizards alive, but he had been practicing and honing his magical skill for over sixty years. And it wasn't like he was sitting around idly as Harry attempted to catch up either. No doubt he was practicing his skill as much as Harry was, getting stronger. Harry could never catch up.

Which meant that he needed _more_ surprises. What he needed . . . were allies.

Harry pondered the thought. He knew that Voldemort had allies – many of the werewolves had sided with Voldemort, following Fenrir Greyback's lead. Harry wasn't sure about the Vampires – he knew that their leading coven kept them on a tight leash when it came to political matters. Harry remembered that vampires hadn't been involved in the first war with Voldemort, or the war with Grindelwald. He'd always been taught that vampires kept out of wizarding affairs, and as such wizards stayed away from vampires.

Harry stopped in mid-air, his large wings beating as he hovered. Vampires. Voldemort was unlikely to gain their support, but that didn't mean the _Light_ couldn't get it. Harry started to drop to the ground, lost in thought. He only knew one vampire coven, and that was the Cullens. He had no doubt that they would be useful in the war - they were all powerful, and they had three gifted vampires among them – but would they even want to join? Harry cringed and began beating his wings again, lifting himself up into the air. Did _he_ even want to involve them? It wasn't their fight. They were happy here, in America, and Harry had right to ask them to give that up to save a bunch of people who hated them.

He couldn't ask them. They wouldn't do it. He couldn't expect them to. They owed Harry nothing at all. Harry sighed heavily. The same, of course, went for the shapeshifters. All of the ones that had turned were powerful, but they were also young and governed by people who were unlikely to let them join in a war where it was possible they would get killed. And, of course, Harry didn't like putting anyone his age in danger, no matter how powerful they were. The Cullens, at least, were all much older than him and had that much more experience, but the shapeshifters were . . . well, innocents, in a way.

No, he couldn't ask either of them to take that risk. He would have to either find allies back home, or just do the battle on his own. Harry smiled a little bitterly.

Wasn't he always on his own?

* * *

**England  
****October 4****th****, 1997**

Pale white hands folded under a sharp chin. "Severus," Lord Voldemort said. "Report."

Severus Snape folded his body into an elegant bow. "My Lord," he murmured. "The fool Dumbledore continues to search for the Potter child, all in vain."

Voldemort sneered deeply. "He cannot even find his golden child? How pathetic." He paused for a moment before asking impatiently, "What other news? Surely he is not _only_ searching for Potter."

Severus decided not to mention that Albus was doing exactly that. For the last few meetings of the Order, Minerva had been the one running them, while Albus had been conspicuously absent. Albus was completely focused on the ritual and finding Potter, and he'd foregone all the rest of his duties in order to see that goal through.

"No, my Lord," Severus said, deciding to tell a half-truth instead. "He plans on using one of the many Weasley children to try and forge an alliance with the goblins." Voldemort had many spies in Gringotts – it was likely he would have found out eventually. Besides, Voldemort wouldn't care about the so called alliance because he knew as well as Severus did that goblins didn't care about wizarding wars.

Voldemort hummed thoughtfully, tapping his finger against the table in front of him. "He won't get their support," he murmured, almost to himself. "The goblins are always neutral in wizarding wars."

Severus bowed again. "My Lord is most wise," he murmured, keeping his disgust at his words deeply buried. He hated sucking up. He added, "As of now, that is the only important news. Everything else remains unchanged in the Light's plans."

Voldemort nodded, satisfied with the information and not in the mood to torture at the moment. "Very well. Remember the potions I have asked you to brew with me, and I will see you at the next meeting. You are dismissed, Severus."

Voldemort watched as his servant left the room, cloak swirling around his feet in a way that was unique to Severus Snape. He let out a thoughtful hiss. _Goblins,_ he thought, his mind already spinning with the possibilities. _He knows that I already have the werewolves support, and he's trying to counter that,_ he thought.

"Not a bad plan," he said to the empty room. "The Goblins are fierce warriors, and they would be a good match for the werewolves. But they'll never do it. They don't believe in involving themselves in wizarding affairs outside of the banks."

Still, he would keep a close eye on Gringotts. If Dumbledore made an offer that the Goblins would seriously consider, he would need to make a counteroffer. He couldn't let Dumbledore even the playing field, not this late in the game. Especially not since his little prophecy had disappeared on him.

"And he's still looking for him," Voldemort said scornfully, shaking his head. "When will he realize it's useless? The Potter child doesn't want to be found." Voldemort paused thoughtfully. "Although it is _interesting_ that he doesn't want to be found." Voldemort frowned. "What have you done, Dumbledore, to make him avoid you so?" he murmured.

_It must have been something horrible,_ Voldemort thought critically. _Harry Potter was firmly entrenched under Dumbledore's thumb the last time I faced him. Only something horrible would change his opinion so thoroughly._

Voldemort had always been a curious soul. He liked to _know_ things, and when he didn't know, he wanted to find out. His curiosity was the reason that he'd searched so hard to find out what Horcruxes were, and the reason he'd delved into the Dark Arts. He just wanted to know about them. And now his curiosity was rising. He hadn't thought about Potter for the year he'd been gone – Voldemort had had more important things to think about, such as his attacks on Hogwarts and the rest of the wizarding world. Now, during the lull in the storm, he found himself wondering. What had happened to Potter? Where had he gone? And, most importantly, if he had so lost faith in Dumbledore that he had _run away_ from the old man . . . did that mean his sympathies might lean towards the Dark, with the proper motivation?

_Maybe,_ he thought, smiling wickedly, _it's time I joined the search for Harry Potter._

* * *

**Forks  
****October 5****th****, 1997**

"I think it's a good idea."

Harry gaped at Remus. "_What_?"

Harry had just finished telling Remus of his thoughts a few nights before – how he had contemplated asking the Cullens and the shapeshifters for their alliance. He'd expected Remus to agree with his conclusion that that wasn't something he could ask of them. Instead, Remus had completely surprised him by taking the opposite stance.

Harry turned to Snape, who was sitting in one of their armchairs, looking thoughtful. Snape had come to collect on Harry's feather that afternoon, and had stayed when Remus insisted that he have dinner with them. Harry hadn't really wanted to bring up the topic with Snape there, but he wanted to talk to Remus about it, as it had been itching at the back of his mind for the past day or so.

"You can't agree with this," Harry said to Snape, who looked bored.

Snape's eyebrow rose. "I very well _can_, Mr. Potter," he drawled. Then his expression turned somber. "It _is_ a good idea. Surprising, really, since it came from _you_."

Harry ignored the insult. "How can you even think it's a good idea? We can't ask them to give up their peaceful lives here to fight in a war that doesn't even involve them!" Harry knew he sounded a little hysterical.

Remus leaned forward, his golden eyes intent. "It _will_ involve them, Harry," he said seriously. "If Voldemort takes over in England, do you think he'll be content with that? He'll want to spread his influence. And trust me, one of the first places he'll try is America, giant ocean in the way or no. And if he has control of England, he could very well succeed here too. And what will happen to the Cullens and the shapeshifters then?"

"They'll have to fight him," Harry said impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean that Voldemort will actually _do_ that. He might actually use his brain for once and realize that taking on America after finishing a war with England isn't in his best interest."

"I'm surprised _you_ were able to use your brain to figure that out," Snape drawled. "Seeing as you've used it so rarely in the past."

"Oh shove it," Harry snapped half-heartedly. "Just because I didn't use it doesn't mean I don't _have_ a brain."

"It seems I have been fooled these past six years," Snape murmured, but Harry ignored him. Remus, on the other hand, spared him an amused look. Snape's eyebrow rose when he saw it.

"Remus, that situation could just as easily _not_ happen. And if it doesn't, then we're getting them involved in a war that they don't need to be involved in," Harry said, interrupting their silent conversation.

Remus turned towards him and frowned, throwing his hands up with frustration. "Alright, cub! If you're so set against it, why did you even bring it up in the first place?"

Harry bit his lip. "I don't know," he said unsurely. "It's just been preying on my mind, that's all. The idea won't leave me alone." He looked down at his hands, all of his previous defiance disappearing.

"Usually that is an indication that you do want to do it, but are too much of a spineless moron to actually go through with it," Snape said mockingly.

Harry whirled on him, real anger in his face now. "Snape—" he started furiously, but Snape leaned forward, his eyes black and glittering, and interrupted him in the soft voice that meant he was furious.

"Potter," he said. "You have been gone for the last year, so therefore your lack of knowledge is excusable, but what you don't realize is that the war is going _badly_. Voldemort is _winning_ and if we don't do something soon, he's going to be the victor in this fight. Now, if your little plan can get us the alliance of a semi-large group of shapeshifters – who, I might add, can stand on equal ground with the werewolves and can transform at will – as well as a group of vampires, then I am behind it completely. Do you want to know why? Because we _need_ it, Potter. And if you're as invested in making sure that we win this war as I am, you'd be knocking on your precious Cullens' door _right now_ and doing everything in your power to make sure that they _help_ us."

Snape leaned back, sneering, as Harry gaped at him. That was the most Snape had spoken to him since . . . well, since _ever_. Snape usually made it a habit to spit off a couple of nasty one-liners and then swirl away. Even since their truce, they rarely spoke to one another often. And not only that, but he was _right_ too. Harry couldn't deny that.

"It's really going that badly?" he asked softly, his anger gone.

Snape sighed, easing back into his chair, his own anger disappearing as well. "Voldemort is winning the Ministry, and it won't be long before he wins Hogwarts as well. Those are the two strongholds of magical England, Potter – with both of them in his power, he'll have an easy time getting the rest of it."

"Why didn't any of my friends mention this?" Harry demanded. "Surely if it was going that bad, they'd have told me."

"I suppose they figured that since you're coming back soon anyways, it wouldn't matter," Remus interrupted, looking strangely serious.

Filled with agitation, Harry stood and began pacing. "So what? I ask them?" he asked unsurely.

Snape snorted and then said, as if it should have been obvious from the beginning, "Yes, you _ask_ them. And if they say no, you _beg_."

Harry frowned. Surely there had to be another way!

"We can't find any other allies in Britain?" Harry asked, chewing on his bottom lip and still pacing. "Why not Beauxbatons? Or Durmstang?"

Snape sneered, but Remus was the one who answered. "Beauxbatons is staying out of this fight, Harry," he explained gently. "They believe that if they don't get involved, Voldemort will leave them alone." He looked over at Snape. "As for Durmstang . . . well, the Headmaster is stating much the same sentiment as Beauxbatons, but many of the students have either fled or have joined with Voldemort."

Harry bowed his head. "And none of the other governments are going to get involved, are they?" he asked. "They'll say the same thing that Beauxbatons is saying – we'll stay out and hope that Voldemort won't come after us next."

Remus nodded. "Yes," he said sadly.

Harry cursed. "What about the magical creatures?" he asked. "Surely _some_ werewolves, or the Veela or _anyone_—"

"The majority of werewolves are on the Dark," Snape told him. "They're led by Fenrir Greyback, whom _your_ wolf is most intimately acquainted with." Harry frowned when he saw Remus' pained look and sent a glare Snape's way. Snape was unrepentant. "The Veela and the vampires have both proclaimed themselves neutral. Albus is attempting an alliance with the goblins, but they never involve themselves with wizarding affairs outside of Gringotts, so it's unlikely."

"The Giants? The merfolk? The centaurs? _Anyone_?" Harry said, each suggestion more feeble than the last.

Snape glared at him. "All of them are running away with their tails between their legs," he said tartly. "Get it through your brain, Potter – the wizards are on their own. All of our years of bigotry are coming back to bite us in the arse." Harry blinked in surprise. He'd never heard Snape swear before. "Which is why you need to open negotiations with your vampires and shapeshifters. If they could be convinced to start an alliance, it could change the tide of the war in our favor. They could help us _win_, Potter."

Harry sat back down, putting his head in his hands, feeling completely miserable. "I'm sorry I ever brought it up," he murmured.

"I'm not," Remus said, reaching over to pat his knee. "If you hadn't mentioned it, I would've spoken up about anyways, Harry. I've been thinking about it too." Harry looked up at him, biting his lip.

"Do you think they'll say yes?" Harry asked, finally submitting to the fact that he _would_ be asking.

Remus frowned thoughtfully, exchanging a look with Snape. "I don't know, Harry," he said. "But I hope they do. Without them, we may very well be doomed."

* * *

Harry stared at the door in front of him.

He knew that all of the vampires inside were probably already aware of his presence. They'd probably smelled him coming when he'd still been on the road outside of their house. But that didn't stop him from hesitating and wondering if he should just leave and pretend that they'd turned him down when Remus asked.

_"We_ need _it, Potter."_

Harry sighed. Snape's little speech had been running through his mind for the past day. It was the only thing that kept him from calling the whole thing off. Determinedly, he raised his hand and knocked. Almost immediately, as if she had just been waiting on the other side of the door for the sound, Alice answered the door.

"Hey Harry!" she said happily. She caught sight of his solemn face and her smile dimmed a little. "What is it?"

"I need to talk to Carlisle," he said, "and the rest of your coven, if they're here."

Alice frowned. "I think everyone's here," she said. "C'mon, follow me."

She took his hand in hers. Harry winced at the cold sensation, but said nothing about it as Alice led him through the Cullen home and into the living room that he'd seen during his last visit. Harry was unsurprised to find that the Cullens had already gathered – he'd figured that, with their sensitive hearing, they'd be able to hear his request and it was a small matter for supernaturally fast beings to travel the length of a house in a minute.

Carlisle was sitting on the couch, looking worried. "How may I help you today, Harry?" he asked, attempting a smile.

Harry took a deep breath. "You all know that I'm a wizard," he said. He looked at Carlisle. "Are you aware of the war that's going on right now in the wizarding world?"

Carlisle frowned. "You mean the one with this Lord Voldemort of yours."

Harry frowned. "Yes," he said. He looked at the rest of the Cullens, and saw that some them – mostly Emmett and Edward – looked confused. "Lord Voldemort, aka Tom Marvolo Riddle," he explained for their benefit. "He's a very powerful Dark Lord – which means he practices Dark Arts, a very dangerous branch of magic. He's a bigoted blood-purist. He doesn't want any wizards that are born in non-magic families to join the wizarding world. He believes that only families with a long history of wizards in them – the _purebloods_, as they're called – are worthy of magic, and that everyone else is scum, especially non-magical people, who wizards call Muggles. He's been fighting this war for over twenty years now, although," Harry hesitated, "he did take a break, around seventeen years ago."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "He took a break from a twenty year war?" he asked skeptically. "Why on earth would he do that?"

Harry bit his lip. He and Remus had decided on this part, but that didn't mean he liked it. He'd wanted to keep this secret, but if he was meant to enter an alliance with the Cullens, he couldn't keep his true identity hidden any longer. If he wanted their help, he would need their trust. And to get their trust, he needed to tell the truth.

"He took a break when he was defeated by Harry Potter, seventeen years ago," he finally said. He looked up Edward, who looked like he was having a dawning realization. "Or, you could say, when he was defeated by _me_," he continued nervously.

There was a pause throughout the room.

"_What_?" Rosalie demanded. "What are you talking about? Your name isn't Harry _Potter_."

"Yes it is," Harry told them, sounding calmer than he felt. "I changed my name so that we—" He hesitated, then amended his statement to, "Well, I just changed it."

"What about your father?" Esme asked, looking surprised. "Is his name different too?"

Harry smiled. "His real name is Remus Lupin," he said. "Since his name isn't exactly common, we decided it was better for him to completely change it."

"Faolan isn't exactly normal either," Emmett commented, grinning a little. Harry laughed a little.

"No, but Remus liked it," he said, smiling. He was relieved that they didn't seem to be focusing on the fact that he had lied to him about it.

He turned to see that Carlisle was watching him closely. Out of all of them, Harry had guessed that Carlisle would be the one with the clearest idea of who he was, and what he meant to the wizarding world. By the look in Carlisle's eyes, he supposed that he had been right.

"Why are you telling us this?" Carlisle asked finally. "Why do we need to know that you're Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived?"

The rest of the Cullens, excluding Esme, all looked at each other in confusion at the title, but Harry ignored them for a moment, instead locking eyes with Carlisle.

"I suppose you've read the press about me," he said.

Carlisle gave him a long look. "I keep up with some wizarding news," he said finally. "And you were pretty big news in the early 1990s, so it was hard to miss you. But you're avoiding the question. Why did you tell us? If you didn't immediately reveal yourself, you must have had a reason . . . ."

"He and his father are in hiding," Edward spoke up, his eyes focused on Harry. He had a strange look on his face. Harry glared up at him.

"The reason why we hid it doesn't matter," he snapped. He took a deep breath. "The reason I _told_ you is so that you'd understand what exactly I'm offering," he said slowly and unsurely. He wondered how exactly he wanted to word this, and decided that blunt was probably the best way to go. "The war is going badly. Voldemort is winning." He paused, and then added, "We need _allies_."

Carlisle realized it immediately. Never let it be said that Carlisle Cullen wasn't intelligent. "You're asking us to ally with you," he said softly. "You want us to join your war." There wasn't any condemnation in his voice, just curiosity.

Harry's fist clenched in his pants, where he had been resting them on his knees. "No, I don't _want_ you to," he said sharply. "But, unfortunately, it doesn't matter whether or not I _want_ you to join – the fact is that we _need_ someone to help us, and you're looking like the best option right now." Harry sighed. "Well, you and the shapeshifters, anyways. But Remus is speaking to them already."

Carlisle's eyebrow went up, but before he could speak, Rosalie interrupted. "So you came here to befriend us under false pretences just so that you could try and get us to help in a war that doesn't even affect us?" she asked incredulously, glaring hotly at him.

"No!" Harry protested, insulted that she would think that of him, even though the circumstances did make it seem that way. "No, that's not it at all! We didn't come here looking for allies. We came here because—because we'd be _safe_ here."

The Cullens all exchanged looks.

"Then why are you asking us _now_?" Edward asked softly, still staring intently at Harry. "Why even ask us at all?" Harry met his gaze frankly.

"Because, fairly soon, we'll have to leave Forks and go back to England," he said. Edward's eyes flashed at that statement, but Harry ignored it. "And when we go back, I'll be thrown in the middle of this war."

"Why?" Alice asked, frowning deeply. "You're only a kid." She was looking at him closely. "Why is a teenager so involved in a war?"

Harry smiled grimly. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby with a spell that is supposed to be able to kill _anyone_ because it's not able to be blocked, but it didn't work on me. My people have declared me their savior, and the leader of the Light agrees with them. Even though I don't want to be in this war, I have to be."

There was silence again.

"Dude," Emmett said slowly, "that sucks."

Harry was startled into laughter. "It _does_ suck," he agreed. "But that's my life."

Carlisle spoke, bring back the tension that had eased with the joke, "What would we need to do, as your allies?" His eyes were thoughtful.

Harry relaxed a little. He'd discussed this part thoroughly with Remus and Snape. "You'd fight with us," he said simply. "Lend us your superior strength and . . . _skills_." He shot a look at the three gifted vampires. "Mostly, you'd be fighting werewolves. They've allied with the Dark, and they can take out wizards easily without magic."

"And what would we get in return?" Carlisle asked with professional ease, as if he made alliances every day.

Harry frowned. This was the part where he'd hit a snag with Remus. They'd only come up with a few things that the vampires might want. "Complete immunity," he said. "No wizarding citizen will be able to touch you, no matter what country they're from – including America." He hesitated, then added, "It was also suggested that we offer money and property, but I wasn't sure if you'd even want it." Snape had been the one to suggest it, but Harry, after seeing their beautiful house, doubted that they wanted or needed money.

"The money, no," Carlisle said, confirming Harry's theory. "But the property? Where would you get it from?"

Harry bit his lip. "It's mine, actually," he said, a little uncomfortably. "My parents were pretty rich – they had several properties, most of which I don't plan on using. Also, my godfather left me several properties in his will. They're scattered over Europe and Asia – I believe there's also one here, and one in Australia as well."

Carlisle nodded. "Is that all? Immunity and property are your offers?" His tone didn't give any indication if he was disappointed by the offers or not.

Harry frowned, and then decided to throw down his last card. "It's also a possibility that Voldemort will come here if he wins in England," he said softly. "If he won, he'd think he's invincible – even the Atlantic would be a small obstacle to him if he decided he wanted America. And if he wants America, he'll be able to take it. And then you'll be involved in the war anyways – without our help."

Carlisle looked thoughtful. "Why didn't you want to ask us?" he asked. Harry blinked in surprise, then remembered his comment earlier. He hadn't expected Carlisle to question him on that.

He sighed. "Snape warned me not to say that," Harry muttered, mostly to himself. He cleared his throat, then said, "I don't believe that it's your fight, and I don't like getting people involved that don't need to be. But the fact is that we _do_ need you, or it's much more likely we'll lose."

Carlisle looked at his hands, appearing deep in thought. The rest of the Cullens all watched him closely, already knowing that whatever decision Carlisle made would be the one that they would all stick with. Harry, realizing this, watched him just as anxiously as the rest. Harry admitted that a part of him wanted them to say no, and another part of him wanted them to say yes. He still had mixed feelings on the matter.

Carlisle finally looked up after spending several minutes examining his hands. "The answer is no, Harry," he said gently. Harry sighed, feeling a mix of relief of disappointment bloom in his chest. "Not because I don't want to help you – I do," Carlisle continued. "But I believe that even if we were to say yes, we'd be unable to help, due to some . . . _complications_. You see, the vampires also have to answer to someone."

Harry blinked and then nodded in realization. "The Volturi," he said. Carlisle's eyebrow rose to his hairline.

"I wasn't aware that they educated wizards on the Volturi," he said, looking both surprised and curious.

Harry smiled. "They don't. I found out through books on the subject," he said. "I wasn't aware that you answered to them, actually. I suppose I thought because of your diet you might not be involved with them at all."

"No, we answer to them as much as any other coven," Carlisle said wryly. "And they'd be . . . _unhappy_ if we decided to join in your war."

Harry sighed deeply. "There's no way to change their minds?" he asked, remembering that Snape had instructed him to beg if they said no. "I couldn't meet with them and plead an alliance?"

Esme smiled and answered before Carlisle could. "You could," she said gently, "but it wouldn't help. The Volturi don't like wizards very much, and they like arcàngelo even less."

Harry blinked. "They dislike my kind?" he asked with surprise. "Why?" He had never heard of _that_ before.

"Because one of the leaders of the Volturi feuded with an arcàngelo," Alice told him, a little dreamily. "Aro once was friends with one of your kind, but they supposedly betrayed him. Ever since then, he's hated arcàngelo, and the rest of the Volturi follow suit." She smiled at Harry's surprised face. "That's how we knew what you were when you told us. The Volturi have given us numerous lectures on staying away from arcàngelo. However, we realized that it was just their prejudice after a while."

Harry frowned. "I wonder what really happened," he murmured.

He couldn't believe that one of his own kind was a traitor, but he knew that traitors came in every species and that it was entirely likely. Harry sighed. He would probably never find out. It was unlikely he'd ever meet this Aro person. Maybe he could ask Arrian and see if he knew anything about it.

Harry stood, deciding that since he had his answer, it was high time for him to leave. "Thanks for your time," he said. He smiled wryly. "I had to try."

He started to leave, but a voice made him stop. "Wait, Harry!" Harry turned to see Edward hurrying after him. "When are you leaving?" he asked urgently, golden eyes pleading. "_Why_ are you leaving?"

Harry bit his lip and glanced over at the Cullens, still gathered around the coffee table. "I'm leaving in about three weeks," he said softly, unsure as to why it seemed to matter so much to Edward. "And I'm leaving because the person who's been trying to find me this entire time has finally caught up, and I'd rather go back home of my own free will." He stared at Edward, a little bit of the anger he had at this whole situation leaking through. "There, are you happy now that you know?" he asked, a little bitterly.

Edward looked paler than usual. "Three weeks?" he asked softly, sounding shocked. Harry frowned at him, his anger fading. _Why does it matter so much?_ He wondered.

He decided to voice his thoughts aloud, since Edward wasn't able to hear them. "I don't know why it matters to you that I'm leaving so soon," he said bluntly. "We barely know each other, Edward."

Edward looked down at him, and Harry was stunned by the amount of malice in his gaze. He hadn't seen that much anger directed at him from Edward since the first day they'd met. Still, his spine hardened and he glared back. Finally Edward growled lowly and spun on his heel, disappearing from the room in a blur of movement. Harry stared at the spot he'd been standing in for a moment before looking over at the Cullens, who all seemed to be in various states of amusement.

"What is _up_ with him?" Harry asked, disgruntled by their smiles and knowing stares.

Alice giggled, waggling her fingers at him. "It's more fun if you figure it out yourself, _Harrikins_," she crooned. Harry made a face at her.

"Fine, don't tell me," he said, almost pouting. "I'll just let him be as mysterious and broody as he wants to be." Esme giggled when he said that. Harry smiled at her and bowed towards Carlisle. "Thank you for your consideration, sir," he said, more formal now. Carlisle smiled at him.

"Anytime, Mr. Potter," he said casually, watching as Harry left.

Carlisle turned to Alice once he was sure that Harry was completely gone. "He doesn't know?" he asked. "That Edward is feeling the pull towards him?"

Alice shook her head. "He has no idea," she said. She stared at Carlisle. "But it isn't a good idea to separate them early," she whispered. They all leaned forward, realizing that Alice was having a vision. "Edward will waste away without him."

Esme drew back in horror as Carlisle said calmly, "It's already that strong then?"

Alice nodded, leaning against Jasper. The vision hadn't been long, but even her weakest ones sometimes made her a little dizzy. "And with every day that they're together, it just grows stronger."

"Well then he needs to stop spending time with that arcàngelo!" Rosalie snapped. "Why you're all mooning over him, I have no idea. He lied to us about who he was and why he was here!"

"With good reason," Esme told Rosalie softly, patting her adopted daughter's knee. "He's right; he doesn't know us very well. If he's on the run, as Edward suspects, then he can't hand out his true name wherever he goes." Esme looked at Carlisle, who looked deep in thought. "Consider his offer, dear," she said, laying a hand on his arm. He looked at her in surprise.

"Esme?" he asked, sounding confused.

"I know that the Volturi will object and we don't want to get on their bad side, but if Harry is that important to Edward, we need to consider it," Esme said firmly. "Harry is obviously set on going back to his home to fight his war, and if he won't stay here, then Edward will have to go with him." She looked around at her children and smiled grimly. "And if there's a possibility of that war spreading here, I want it to be stopped before it can ever happen."

Carlisle smiled and kissed his wife's head. "You amaze me more and more every day," he murmured into her hair before lifting his head. "Very well. I'll consider it."

Alice smiled. "I can see what answer you'll have, Carlisle," she said teasingly. "But I won't tell you. I'd rather it be a surprise!"

Carlisle laughed and ruffled her hair. "I think already know what answer I'm going to give too," he admitted. "But I suppose it's for the best of all of us if I actually analyze it before telling Harry."

Esme sighed and leaned against her husband's arm. "No matter what _we_ do, Edward needs to go. I won't have my son waste away when I can make sure he has happiness." She looked a little mournful. "After all those years of trying to find Edward a companion, he finally finds someone he likes and it can't work out."

"Not only that," Rosalie muttered, "but he's a wizard, an arcàngelo, and the son of a _werewolf_." She brightened, ignoring the look Esme sent her. "Potter said we'd fight werewolves, didn't he?" She asked eagerly. "That'd be one perk to this whole debacle."

Emmett smiled down at her. "You're so bloodthirsty!" he laughed. Rosalie sneered at him, her eagerness fading. Emmett just continued to laugh. Esme smiled indulgently at the both of them.

Carlisle looked towards Jasper. "What do you think of all this?" he asked his quietest son.

Jasper looked thoughtful. "Harry has helped me with my control," he said softly. "I'd like to be able to help him in return. And Edward needs him." He gave Carlisle a look that spoke exactly of how he felt about the situation and Carlisle nodded, sighing as he realized he would have a lot to consider in the next few days.

Carlisle stood and stretched, looking at his family. "I suppose I'd better go and find Edward," he said, and disappeared out of the room.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry this came out so late, but I didn't have much time to work on it this week. And it's short again, but since I'm updating regularly the chapters will probably stay about this length. I find it so funny how I can tell exactly who are the Harry Potter fans and who are the Twilight fans from the reviews. Every HP fan guessed Voldy and every Twilight fan guessed Volturi for the mystery man at the end of the last chapter. However, it _was_ the Volturi (sorry to ruin the surprise!). Yes, they'll be showing up soon. In a few chapters, the plot should be speeding up as well, actually, and we'll see more of the wizarding world characters. Please leave a review!


	12. Chapter Ten: Signing the Deal

**Aseptic Vitality  
****Chapter Ten: Signing the Deal**

Never refuse any advance of friendship, for if nine out of ten bring you nothing, one alone may repay you. (Madame de Tencin)

* * *

**Forks, Washington  
****October 9****th****, 1997**

Harry had been sleeping when the knock sounded on his window.

He started awake, hand instantly going to the wand that he kept under his pillow. Within seconds, he was on his feet, light as a cat, with his wand at the ready. Cautiously, he crept over to the window. When he saw Edward Cullen standing there, he relaxed and sighed with annoyance. He pushed the window open.

"What are you _doing_ here?" he whispered furiously, well aware of Remus' sharp hearing. "It's the middle of the night!"

Edward stepped inside, the largeness of the window making it easy for him, and said, "I needed to see you."

"And what, it couldn't have waited until _morning_?" Harry asked, getting more and more irritated. "I know you're a vampire, but _some_ creatures actually do _sleep_, you know!"

Edward's lip quirked. "Sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry at all. Harry wanted to smack him. "I didn't want to wait."

"Well, in case you haven't realized Edward, the world doesn't revolve around _you_," Harry grumbled. "Just because you didn't _want_ to wait doesn't mean you _couldn't_ have."

"Are you always this cranky when you don't get enough sleep?" Edward asked, sounding amused.

"I'm always this cranky when I get woken up in the middle of the night by my annoying vampire stalker," Harry shot back with irritation. "Now tell me what you so desperately needed to say before the sun came up and then leave, so I can go back to sleep."

Edward's amused face turned somber. "You can't leave," he said quietly.

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry," he said, "it might be because I haven't had enough sleep, but I could've _sworn_ you said I can't leave, and I have absolutely no _idea_ what you're talking about. Can't leave _where_, exactly?"

"Forks," Edward clarified. Harry's brow furrowed.

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I kind of _need_ to leave Forks," he said sharply. "So it doesn't matter if I _can_ or not."

Edward's shoulders tensed and he started to pace Harry's room. Slowly, Harry sat down on his bed and wondered if maybe Edward had gone insane. It was certainly starting to look like a possibility.

"You _can't_ leave," Edward said again.

"Saying it more forcefully won't make it true," Harry told him bluntly. "And you haven't told me why _you_ seem to think I can't leave Forks, as a matter of fact." Edward tensed further. "Oh for the love of _Merlin_, Edward, will you just bloody tell me so I can go back to _sleep_?" It was _far_ too early to deal with this kind of bullshit.

"Your blood sings to me," Edward blurted out. He froze, looking horrified.

Harry blinked. "Oh-kay," he said hesitantly. "Is that all?"

Edward turned to him in surprise. "You know what it means?" he asked, puzzled.

Harry sighed. "_La tua cantante_," he said in passable Italian. "Literally, it means your singer. It's a term used to describe humans who smell particularly appetizing to vampires." He rolled his eyes at Edward's puzzled look. "I think _you_ seem to forgetting that _I'm_ not human, Edward. I've heard about Singers before – they're talked about in wizarding history and," Harry grimaced, "they're also the plot devices of quite a few wizarding romance novels involving vampires."

Edward blinked in surprise. "_Really_?" he asked curiously. "I didn't know wizards were so well informed—"

"Vampires aren't as mysterious as they make themselves out to be," Harry said primly. Edward snorted and Harry glared at him. "_Anyway_, the point is that you're only attracted to my blood. You won't be affected if I move across the ocean." He leaned back on his bed, wondering why Edward seemed to be so worked up over this and why he had to take it out on Harry so _early_.

Edward was glaring, but he directed it towards the bed instead of at Harry. "You don't understand," he said with frustration. "I've talked to Emmett and to Carlisle, and what I'm feeling towards you now is nothing like the way they've felt towards their Singers. All I feel is a need to—" Edward paused, and Harry was sure that if he'd been human he would have blushed. "A need to possess you," Edward continued quietly. "My beast wants you as his."

Harry frowned. "That's not normal," he murmured, remembering the texts he'd read about vampires.

The section on Singers had, admittedly, been very small and slightly vague, but he remembered it mentioning that vampires could have multiple Singers throughout their lifetime and that losing one would not affect a vampire very much beyond the sadness of losing a companion. In fact, most vampires killed their Singers – either to make them vampires, or just to have their blood. There wasn't much _attachment_ between a Singer and a vampire, which was why Harry had always found the romance novels written about Singers so silly. The vampire was _only_ attracted towards the blood – and many vampires would be so overwhelmed with the smell of it that they wouldn't pause to kill their Singer. However, it _was_ possible that since Edward had managed to keep himself from killing Harry, his inner beast was possessive of Harry because it wanted to have his blood for itself.

"It still doesn't matter," Harry told Edward decisively. "Either I leave in three weeks, or the man who's chasing me finds me and drags me back kicking and screaming. Either way, I'm not staying in Forks." He looked up to see that Edward looked like someone had killed his puppy. Harry snorted. "What, did you expect me to fall at your feet once you revealed that my _blood_ sings to you? I'm sorry, Edward, but I'm not that desperate."

Edward looked angry. "That's not what I wanted at all—" he protested fiercely.

Harry knew that Edward probably hadn't expected that – from what he'd seen, the vampire was too much of a gentleman. Still, he'd probably expected that revealing that Harry was his Singer would make Harry cave into him _somehow_, otherwise he wouldn't have said it.

"Look, Edward, the fact of the matter is that it doesn't matter whether my blood sings to you or not, because I have things I need to do," Harry interrupted him brusquely. "I can't stay here just because you like the smell of my blood."

Edward growled lowly. "I _know_ that," he said, frustrated. "But I still couldn't stop myself from coming here and _trying_—"

Harry smiled. At least Edward was a _little_ realistic. "Well, your efforts failed." Edward stared at him and Harry sighed. "Now can you please go? I need to get some sleep."

Slowly, Edward moved to the window. Harry watched him exit through it from his bed, relaxing from a tension he hadn't even known he'd had. Slowly, he sank onto his bed, lying down. His tiredness had disappeared, however. His thoughts were whirling too rapidly for him to sleep.

Edward's behavior, considering Harry's status towards him, made much more sense now. The way he'd glared when they'd first met – it had to have been because his beast was on the edge of killing Harry. Harry was reluctantly impressed with Edward's control – it couldn't have been easy, having your Singer in the room with you, sitting only a few feet away. And his erratic behavior over the past few weeks – that was explained by his beast becoming possessive of Harry's blood. Harry suddenly remembered Arrian's humor when he told him about Edward and rolled his eyes. His mentor had probably figured it out from the moment Harry had told him.

In any case, it made no difference. Edward was only attracted to Harry's blood, and that attraction was probably amplified by his inability to see into Harry's mind. Harry didn't want that kind of relationship – if indeed, that was what Edward had been offering by trying to stop Harry from leaving Forks. And in any case, it was a moot point – in three weeks he'd be gone, whether he left himself or was dragged home by Aurors.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He needed the sleep.

* * *

Harry tapped his foot impatiently. Beside him, Remus gave him a look. Harry sighed.

"They should be here by now!" he complained. Remus smiled at him indulgently.

"They're just running late," he soothed. "Billy said they might be."

"What, did they get stuck in the traffic? We both know how much of _that_ Forks has," Harry said grumpily.

"I'm sure they'll be here soon," Remus said, looking amused.

Harry sighed and looked out of the window. The shapeshifters of Billy's tribe were _supposed_ to be meeting them at three o'clock that afternoon, to discuss the treaty. Harry smiled, a little sadly. He should have guessed that Remus would have more luck than him when it came to the alliances. Remus was always the diplomat. Harry was a little too impatient to make a good negotiator, and Remus had the patience of a saint. As evidenced by their situation now – Harry was sitting in an armchair, his leg jiggling impatiently, as Remus sat in his own chair, still as a statue and just as calm as one too. Harry sometimes envied his patience.

A knock sounded on the door. Harry leapt up to answer it, crying, "Finally!"

Remus' laughter followed him out of the living room as he went to the door. He blinked when it opened it to reveal six teenagers standing outside. All of them were boys except for one, a black-haired girl who looked like she had a stick up her ass. The five boys surrounding her were all much larger than Harry, except for one younger one (who, though smaller, was still taller than Harry, to Harry's disgust), and had the same copper skin-tone. Harry smiled when he saw Jacob, standing near the back next to Sam. It seemed that he had finally come into his inheritance. **(1)**

"Come inside," Harry said, ushering them in. "Remus is in the living room."

Remus had been the one to inform the tribe about Harry's true name, as well as telling anyone who didn't know about Remus' real name as well. The shapeshifters all exchanged glances before following Harry inside, silently examining their house. Harry led them into the living room, which felt very full with six large people occupying it. Harry eyed the shapeshifters – even the girl seemed taller than usual. He sighed. Why couldn't _he_ have gotten the tall gene?

The shapeshifters stuffed themselves into the living room – some of them took the couch, while others just simply sat on the floor. Harry hurriedly reclaimed his armchair before any of the others could take it. Jacob, grinning, perched on the arm of his chair. Harry glanced up at him.

"So I see you came into your inheritance?" Harry asked casually. Jacob shrugged.

"It was only a week ago," he said. "I'm still kind of new to it, actually. I'm only here because my dad insisted on it."

Harry patted Jacob's knee. "I'm glad you're here. It's nice to see a familiar face."

"Would you please all introduce yourselves?" Remus asked of the rest of the shapeshifters. "I'm afraid Harry isn't acquainted with all of you."

Sam took the initiative. "That's Paul," he said, gesturing to a black-haired teenager on the floor, "Quil," the boy next to Paul who had a buzz-cut and a mischievous grin, "Seth," the smallest of the boys, and clearly not yet fifteen, with black hair and warm eyes, "and Leah," the girl of the bunch. "You both already knew me and Jacob, I believe," Sam added.

"Thank you, Sam," Remus said, inclining his head. "You all know why you're here?"

"Apparently," Leah said sharply, "you need our help to fix _your_ problems."

Harry stiffened, but Remus just smiled. "That seems to be the case," he agreed. Leah looked surprised at the answer, but then she sneered.

"Guess wizards really _are_ the losers we thought they were," she said flippantly. Sam turned to her with a snarl.

"Leah," he said sharply. "These are potential allies, and you will treat them with _respect_." He stared her down. "Are we clear?"

Leah held his glare for a minute before nodding sharply. "Sure," she murmured. "We're clear."

Harry cleared his throat. All of the shapeshifters' attention turned to him. "Just so _we're_ clear," he told Leah, "you might be wise to fear wizards a little more than you do now." He smiled, slow and sharp. "Otherwise I might make sure that you can't voice your _opinions_ anymore."

"Harry!" Remus admonished. Harry shrugged.

"What?" he said. "You might have the patience of a saint, Remus, but _I_ don't. I'm not going to put up with her bullshit just because she's got a stick up her ass." There was some muffled snickering from Quil and Paul. Harry could feel Jacob laughing next to him too.

The youngest, Seth, spoke up. "She's really sorry," he said to Harry, speaking for Leah.

Harry smiled at him, liking the kid purely because of his eyes. "No use apologizing for her," he said cheerfully, before Leah could speak. "Alright, let's get on with it," he added to the rest of them.

"You already know the terms of the agreement," Remus told them. "Am I to take it that you're going to accept?"

"We need to make sure that immunity will be given," Sam said seriously. "I don't want us to expose ourselves to your world only be hunted and prosecuted afterwards."

Remus and Harry exchanged a look before Harry said, "I can guarantee that immunity will be given," he said.

"Oh?" Leah said. "And how can you do _that_?" She sounded sarcastic. Harry supposed that he hadn't really gotten on her good side by saying that she had a stick up her ass.

"I'm powerful politically in the wizarding world," Harry said. "They'll listen to me."

Sam was looking at him. "The Boy-Who-Lived, right?" he asked with a little humor. Harry inclined his head.

"I didn't know that you guys knew much about the wizarding world," he said. Sam shrugged.

"Billy stays updated," he said. "Since I'm the Alpha, he passes on what he thinks is relevant to me." Sam eyed Harry curiously. "You've been missing for a year, haven't you? Why are you going back now?"

Harry stiffened. "It's either going back of my own free will, or be dragged back," he said. "I'm fond of my free will, so I decided on the former. Are there any other things that need to be addressed?"

The shapeshifters all exchanged looks. "Can we bring our imprints?" Quil asked, a little hesitantly. "No one's said anything about that, and I'm not leaving without Claire."

Harry had forgotten that shapeshifters imprinted. "You're sure you want them in the middle of this?" he asked. "We're going to be fighting a war, not having a bloody tea party. They could get hurt."

"We're sure," Sam said. "We'll need them by our sides if we do this – especially if we're going to be fighting."

Harry sighed. "I'll set up a safe house for them," he said, thinking about Grimmauld Place. "They can't be with you all of the time, but you can visit them as often as you like." He looked around at them. "Anything else?"

The shapeshifters all exchanged another look. Harry remembered suddenly a book he'd read on shapeshifters – how some of them, especially the pack-oriented ones, could share thoughts with each other. He wondered if that's what the shapeshifters were doing now, and wondered what they were talking about if they were. Finally, Sam looked up.

"We agree to this," he said. "We will help you win your war in exchange for full immunity from the wizarding world and a reservation in England. Our last stipulation is that we will bring our mates and they will be fully protected."

Harry and Remus looked at each other. "It's a deal," Harry said. He leaned forward, his eyes on Sam. "We'll have to leave in a little less than three weeks, and I'm not sure how long we'll be gone. Are you all good with that?"

Sam frowned. "We'll have to think up excuses for school," he murmured. "I'm sure Billy can handle that while we're gone."

"How many of you will there be?" Harry asked. "Just you six?"

"No," Sam said. "There are eleven others **(2)**."

Harry's eyebrow rose. That was more than he had been expecting. "You're not leaving any of them behind?" he asked.

Sam shook his head. "We don't have anything that they need to protect here," he said. He smiled a little. "And all of my tribe is eager to fight. They've never used their gifts for anything useful before."

Harry nodded. "Alright," he said, thinking that soon the shapeshifters that were so eager to fight would realize that fighting, in the end, was not as much fun as stories and movies made it out to be. "Can you cover for all of those people? Seventeen is quite a number."

Sam shook his head. "We'll think of something," he said. "I don't like leaving any of my pack behind."

Seth spoke up. "We could create an epidemic," he said thoughtfully. Sam turned to him with a frown.

"An epidemic?" he asked skeptically.

Seth nodded. "It started in the reservation," he said. "Everyone who's leaving is sick with it, and since it's highly contagious, no one is allowed in or out of the area." Seth bit his lip. "But it'd have to be something long term, especially if we're gone for a long time."

Leah frowned at him, then turned to Sam. "Wait, do you mean _everyone_ is going?" she asked. "Even _him_?" She gestured to Seth.

Sam sighed. "He's old enough, Leah," he said patiently. "I won't put him in every fight, but it's good to have more instead of less, and Seth has learned to take care of himself."

"He's only fourteen," Leah insisted **(3)**. "That's too young to get involved in a _war_!"

Sam sighed and turned to Seth. "D'you want to come?" he asked wearily. "I'll understand if you say no."

Seth nodded rapidly. Leah snarled. "Of course he's going to say yes!" she snapped. "He's a teenage boy, he still thinks fighting and killing people is all fun and games!"

Harry frowned, looking between them. Seth was a little young for them to be lovers, which meant they were probably related. Harry wondered if they were cousins or siblings, and decided that they were probably siblings – they had enough similar features to be related that closely.

Seth stared up at her. "I don't think that, Leah," he said gently. "I just want to help." Seth turned to Harry. "Did you ask the Cullens too?"

Harry could feel the shapeshifters tensing. He knew that vampires and shapeshifters didn't really get along, and he remembered Rosalie telling him the reason why. Harry wondered why the shapeshifters hated the Cullens so much.

"Yeah," he said casually. "They said no."

Leah snorted. "Typical vampires," she muttered. "They're all cowards."

Harry frowned at her, but he didn't say anything. He understood why the Cullens had decided to stay out of the fight, and he mostly supported it – but that didn't stop a small part of him from being hurt by it. He'd come to like the Cullens and their refusal to help him stung, just a little bit. But Harry had shoved those feelings aside, because he had to remember that _he'd_ been against them helping as well, and he had no right to feel hurt that they'd decided to stay out of it like he'd wanted them to.

The phone in the kitchen rang. Harry frowned and stood, jumping over shapeshifters to get out of the living room. He heard Sam and Remus talking in low murmurs behind him as he entered the kitchen and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he said, wondering who on earth would be _calling_ them. They'd never even given out the phone number?

"Harry?" Harry blinked, and then recognized Carlisle's voice.

"Carlisle?" he asked in confusion. "What is it? Why're you calling me?"

Carlisle sighed. "I've been considering your offer," he said. "I was wondering if you could come up to our house so we could discuss it further?" He paused, then added, "I believe my family might be willing to change our minds."

Harry's heart leaped a little. "Of course," he said. "I'll be up there in ten minutes."

He could hear the smile in Carlisle's voice as he said, "There's no need to hurry, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "See you then," he said and he managed to wait for a goodbye on the other end before hanging up.

When he re-entered the living room, all eyes were on him. He paused in the door. "I'm guessing you heard that?" he asked, remembering that shapeshifters and werewolves had a strong sense of hearing. He looked over at Remus, who was smiling. "I'll be back in a while," he said. "I'm going to go see what they want."

Leah made a sound of disgust. "I don't want to work with _vampires_," she said.

Harry paused, but before he could say anything, Sam told her, "We've already agreed, so you're just going to have to suck it up." He nodded at Harry. "Let us know what they decide," he added. Harry smiled.

"I will," he said.

Harry hurried out of the door. He looked at his truck, which was finally back in working order, and then looked at the sky, which was cloudy and grey. Harry took a deep breath and his wings burst out of his back. Flying would be faster and, in any case, easier. The truck still made weird noises whenever he drove it, which made Harry wonder if he should get a mechanic to look at it. Still, he'd only need it for a few more weeks. It wasn't like he could bring it back with him to England.

Harry flew low over the trees, although he made sure to keep in the clouds. He knew that people rarely looked up when they hiked, and that there probably wouldn't be that many hikers out today anyways, but it ever hurt to be careful. He knew roughly where the Cullen house was, and made a few bad turns before he finally managed to find his way there. Harry dropped down just outside of the door, panting a little and grinning. He concentrated and his wings disappeared back into his body with a soft whoosh of sound. He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Carlisle opened it. "Harry," he said warmly. "You made it in five minutes instead of ten."

Harry shrugged. "I'm fast," he said, a little proudly. Carlisle laughed.

"Edward told us about your race," he said, leading Harry inside. "I'm impressed you were able to beat him – he's the fastest of our family."

Harry shrugged. "It wasn't all that hard," he said, making Carlisle chuckle.

Instead of leading Harry to the living room, he led him to the kitchen. Esme was standing at the stove, making something, while the rest of the Cullens were all sitting or lounging in various places. Harry smiled a little at how domestic it looked. _Vampires being domestic,_ he thought in amusement. _Ron would get a kick out of this._

Alice came up to hug him, while Emmett clapped him strongly on the shoulder. He got a small smile from Jasper and a disdainful sniff from Rosalie, which was her way of saying hello. Harry avoided Edward's gaze, however, remembering how their last conversation went. However, even as he avoided it, he felt it burning in the side of his head. He wanted to tell Edward to _stop_, but he didn't want to start an argument.

"Harry, have a seat," Carlisle said, leading him to an empty chair at the long, bar-like counter. "Esme is making something for you."

Harry protested, "You really didn't have to—"

Alice laughed. "Esme likes having someone to cook for," she said cheerfully. "_You're_ really doing _us_ a favor!"

Harry sighed and conceded. "Alright," he said, wondering what Esme was making for him. He couldn't see the stove, but whatever it was smelled heavenly. He turned to Carlisle. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Carlisle sighed. "We've been reconsidering your offer," he said seriously. Harry tensed. "We're starting to believe that it might in our best interests if we help you."

Harry's eyebrow rose. "Oh?" he asked. "And what made you change your mind so suddenly? Did all of the Volturi suddenly die off or something?"

Carlisle smiled. "No," he said. "There's another reason." He didn't say anything more. Harry's brow furrowed before something suddenly dawned on him. He whirled on Edward, meeting his eyes for the first time since he'd entered the room.

"You _told_ them?" he demanded.

Edward glared at him. "It's a little hard to hide!" he said. "Anyways, why on earth would I lie about it?"

"I don't want your help just so Edward can be near his Singer," Harry said sharply to Carlisle. "If you're going to help me, I want it to be because you genuinely _want_ to."

Carlisle spread his hands. "We _do_," he said. "And if it also means that Edward gets to be near the only human who has ever called to him in one hundred years . . . . Then that's just a bonus." He smiled.

Harry frowned. "I don't understand any of you," he said. "It's just a _blood_ attraction. It's not like I'm his mate or anything." Edward growled and Harry rolled his eyes. "Down puppy," he muttered. He heard Emmett laugh.

"Harry," Esme said, drawing Harry's attention to her. "If you lose this war, will it spread to America?"

Harry hesitated, then said, "Voldemort doesn't just want Britain. He wants the whole world, and he'll stop at nothing to get it. If he does win in Britain, my guess is that he'll either go at America first to get them out of the way or he'll save them until last, when he's conquered as much of Europe and Asia as he can." Harry shrugged. "It's _likely_ he'll come here, but there's no way I can say for sure."

Esme thought about that for a moment, before nodding her head. "I want this man gone," she said quietly and firmly. "I don't want the threat he's bringing to my family. If that means defeating him before he can gain _any_ power, then I'm more than willing to help you in your war."

"Besides," Emmett cut in, "I could use a good fight. The only thing in Forks that offers a bit of excitement are the grizzly bears!"

Harry laughed a little. "I can imagine it would be boring," he said teasingly. Emmett nodded, flaunting a massive pout.

"You have _no_ idea," he mock-whimpered. Harry laughed again.

Carlisle stepped in, smiling. "So, do we have an agreement?" he asked.

Harry's face turned somber as he turned to look at the vampire leader. He stared up at Carlisle closely for a long moment before he nodded sharply. Carlisle smiled more widely.

"Wonderful!" he said. "Now, how do we seal it?"

Harry shrugged. "By words," he said, then took a deep breath.

"Do you, the Cullen clan, vow to help the Light side win the wizarding war, in return for . . . ." Harry trailed off and gave a questioning look to Carlisle.

Carlisle frowned. "Land in any country we choose and full immunity from the wizarding world," he said finally. Harry nodded.

"In exchange for land on any country you choose and full immunity from the wizarding world," he repeated.

The Cullens all exchanged looks. "We do," they chorused. Harry smiled.

"Well then," he said, with some satisfaction. "It seems that we have an accord." He bowed to them, a habit he'd picked up in Asia, mostly from his time in Japan. "I can't thank you enough for what you're doing for me and my world," he said sincerely. "If you ever need any help after the war is over, you'll have it from me."

"Harry," Esme said, causing Harry to straighten to look at her. "There is one more request I have for you in return for our help." Harry tensed, wondering what else she would ask. "I ask that you just _consider_ Edward," she said gently.

"Esme—" Edward started, sounding sharp.

Harry interrupted him. "Just _consider_ him?" he asked, to be sure. Esme nodded. Harry thought about it, then shrugged. "Alright," he said. "As long as it isn't _necessary_ that I bond with him."

Edward looked surprised. "You're agreeing?" he asked.

Harry frowned at him. "Don't sound so shocked," he said. "I can agree every once in a while."

Edward smiled at him, so brightly that Harry had the sneaking suspicion that maybe there might be a drug that could affect a vampire's system and that Edward was on it. "I just never thought I'd see the day," he teased.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just so we're clear," he said, "this doesn't mean that I'm going to go around mooning over you or anything. All this means is that I won't reject you right off the bat."

Edward was still smiling. "Well, if you want to be _wooed_, I suppose I must comply," he said, sounding amused.

Harry scowled. "Wooed?" he asked dangerously. "I'm not a _woman_, Edward Cullen—"

"I never said you were," Edward said. "How very sexist of you, Harry, to believe that only women can be wooed."

Harry's scowl deepened. "You're such a bastard—"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. The Cullens all turned in unison, guarded looks on their faces. Harry blinked at them, then turned to see what all the fuss was about.

"Alice?" Carlisle asked, sounding guarded.

"I didn't see them coming," Alice said, sounding shocked. "What are they _doing_ here?"

"We need to get Harry _out_," Edward said urgently. "He has to be what they've come for Carlisle, it can't be anything else—"

"We can't," Emmett said, which caused Edward to growl at him. Emmett gave him a look. "They already know he's here, Edward," he said reasonably. "If you run with him now, they'll just follow you and you know it."

"If we could get to his house before them, they won't be able to find him," Edward argued. "His house is hidden from vampires' sight—"

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted, maintaining a polite tone. "Could someone please explain to me what the bloody hell is going on?"

Edward turned to him. Harry was surprised by the desperate look on his face. "Harry, you need to get out of here," he said, grabbing Harry's shoulders. "We can't let them see you—"

"It seems, Mr. Cullen," said a voice from the door, "that it's much too late for _that_."

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter is ridiculously short and badly written and ends with a cliffhanger. SORRY READERS. I had immense trouble with the shapeshifter scene, mostly because I haven't read Twilight beyond the first book . . . . I don't know what I was thinking, trying to write a crossover with a book that I know so little about. –sigh- Anyways, sorry that it's late and short, and please leave a review!

**(1) **I'm pretty sure this is out of timeline, but I wanted Jacob to come too, so I made him change sooner. Take THAT canon. XD  
**(2)** So far Wikipedia has not led me wrong when it comes to Twilight, so I'm assuming that it's right when it says "seven others" for Sam's pack, as well as the more major characters that I didn't include at the meeting (such as Jared and others).  
**(3)** This is still set somewhat in the first Twilight, so I'm assuming that Seth is fourteen? I actually have no idea . . . . I had no idea how much information I'd need to write the shapeshifters –facepalm-


	13. Important Notice: PLEASE READ

Hey guys!

So I know a lot of you have been wondering when I'm going to update this story. I'm sorry to say that I won't be. I've given this a lot of thought, but I've been having problems writing Aseptic Vitality for over a year (I'm sure some of my readers remember the near-year-long hiatus this story was on) and I've figured out that I'm just not invested in this story anymore. It's really hard for me to write a story that I'm not invested in, and I also don't like writing a story half-heartedly.

I know that this will disappoint the people who really like this story and want it to continue. I'm really sorry - I know how much it sucks to have a story you like stop updating. But this is my final decision. Aseptic Vitality is formally abandoned - for now.

If, someday in the future, I look back at this story and find a renewed interest in it, I will open it again. A new note will be published should that day ever come, to inform anyone who still has this story on alert that it's up and running. Otherwise, I'm also open to the idea of adoption, should anyone like the story enough to want to continue it for me. PM me if you're interested and we can discuss it. Otherwise, there won't be any new chapters for this story.

Once again, I'm really quite sorry. I hope you all will read other stories I put out, even if this one is being abandoned. Otherwise, it's been wonderful to have such a good response to this story, and I had fun while it lasted. Thank you all for reading and for your kind reviews!

Unwritten


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